The Fragrant Taste of Rain
by Pavarti
Summary: Bella Swan moved to Forks to teach at the Reservation school in La Push.  Despite recovering from a broken heart she enters into a passionate relationship with the mysteriously artistic Jacob Black. But in the end is he exactly what she'd always needed?
1. Chapter 1

_The Fragrant Taste of Rain _by Pavarti

**Bella Swan moved to Forks, Washington, to teach at the small Quilleute Indian Reservation in La Push. Despite recovering from a broken heart, she enters into a turbulent and passionate relationship with the mysteriously artistic Jacob Black. Race relations between the towns, Jacob's past, and Bella's former lover, Edward, complicate their relationship, but in the end is he exactly what she always needed?**

_Special Thanks to the following people, without whom this story would not have been possible: HopeAlways, Amanda Wilder, YNotJacob, WordSlinger, Shawnie and JKane180_

Disclaimer: This is a work of Fan Fiction intended for entertainment only. No profit is being made through the posting or dissemination of this story. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

_When I said I'd give my right arm for you, I didn't think you'd ask me for it, __  
but you did.  
You said, Give it to me.  
And I said, OK  
I believed you wouldn't have asked me for it unless you really wanted it, and needed it.  
But then, when you got it, you bronzed it and put it on the mantel over the fireplace in the den._

-Forgiveness by Rebecca Brown

* * *

I walked inside the little convenience store I'd stopped at to pay for gas. It had been a long drive from Arizona, but I was almost there - to my new the state of Washington, under a near constant cover of clouds and rain, there is a small town named Forks. Population: 3,120 people. This is where I was moving. Looking up at the sky, I sighed, knowing it might be one of the last times I saw the sun for a long while.

To say I was less than enthused about the idea of going to Forks was an understatement. When I applied to the Teach for America program, I expected to go somewhere exciting, maybe even a little dangerous, like Brooklyn or Compton; hell, Salt Lake City would have been more exciting than being assigned to the Reservation School in La Push, Washington. I wasn't allowed to live on the Reservation while working there - some Tribe Council rule to keep the area from gentrifying. So I got to move to Forks and share a house with some woman who had an extra room that I talked to once on the phone.

Twenty-three years old and moving alone to the set of _Deliverance_ wasn't something that I planned on when I filled out my application and checked the box that I agreed to go anywhere in the continental US they assigned me. But I tucked my negativity into my back pocket as I grabbed a Kit-Kat and paid the clerk. The bell on the door taunted me as I walked back outside to resume my northbound trek.

I was one hour away from Forks and my new life in Rosalie Hale's spare room. I was one hour away from no longer being a college student with no plans for her life; one hour until I had to become an adult. But that was in one hour.

Until then, I sang along with Mary J. Blige on the radio – how can that woman make even the word "percolate" sexy? It was a skill I couldn't even remotely relate to since I can't make a negligee sexy even when I try. The windows were down in my crappy rent-a-truck, and I enjoyed the battle the wind had with Mary for dominance. The first thing on the to-do list when I got there was definitely to find a car. Rosalie had told me I could borrow hers until I found one, but I didn't want to start out by imposing on her.

Rosalie Hale was only a little older than me in age but sounded much older than me on the phone. She'd inherited a house a few years ago that she and her three year old son Royce lived in alone. She said she had a boyfriend who was around a lot, but her entire second floor was vacant. I wouldn't have my own kitchen, but I would have a bedroom, sitting room and private bathroom. It was better than the boarding house I'd called, that's for sure, and Rosalie seemed nice enough, even if she was extremely business-like.

The house was on the outskirts of Forks, on the La Push side, making it ten minutes to downtown and twenty minutes to the Reservation. That was, of course, assuming that you had a car.

As I drove, I watched the trees become denser and greener, a natural side effect of the deluge of rain that had already begun. I switched on the wipers and turned down the music, enjoying the calming sound of the rain falling on the truck. It reminded me of the tin roof that had been on the house I lived in growing up in Massachusetts, but that was a long time ago.

My father died in the line of duty when I was eight, and my mother never completely recovered. She never spoke his name again, and I wasn't even allowed to keep a picture of him in my room, but I had one - one small picture of the two of us together at the Quarry the summer before he died that I kept tucked into whatever book was by the side of my bed. That picture was in my purse now, hiding in my well-read copy of _Wuthering Heights_.

I pulled off of the main highway and began seeing signs for La Push beach. The roads were narrow, barely enough for more than one car at a time, but then, there weren't any other cars on the road today. It was a dreary Tuesday afternoon, and I would begin teacher training on Thursday, with students starting class on Monday. Working at such a small school, I was given more than one title; I was the English/Creative Writing Teacher and Yearbook Club advisor.

I drove past the first turnoff for La Push and noticed that it was surrounded by an entrance gate, intricately designed with wood and wrought iron images of wolves and deer. The second entrance was not as elaborate. There was simply a sign informing visitors that this was the road for the school, Tribal Cultural Center and residential homes. In other words, go to the other entrance, ya tourist. These were a people who liked to keep the boundaries clear; I could see that already.

The road became rougher as I got closer to Forks, and I almost missed the dirt road that Rosalie lived on. It was barely a road, with more mud than gravel showing the path. The rain was coming down in sheets now, making it impossible to see, even with the wipers going at full speed. Down the path a ways, I could see what looked like a house light and hoped I had the right place.

The house I pulled in front of was large and white. It looked like it had been restored, at least partially, in the past few years and had a fresh coat of paint on it. The yard was mostly grass; at least there were no plastic flowers in window boxes like my mother put out, insisting they looked just like the real thing. I stopped the truck and noticed that there were two cars here already: an old Jeep and a nice, little VW Bug.

Grabbing my bag, I opened the door and ran as fast as I could to the covered porch, but any attempt not to get soaked was useless. This place was just waiting for Noah to set up residence and start building an arc. Forks might actually be hell on Earth.

Knocking on the door, I held my arms around myself; despite the warm August weather, the rain had chilled me.

"Hello!" A small child opened the door.

"Hi there," I replied, leaning down to him. "You must be Royce. I'm Bella. Is your mom here?"

"Mama!" he cried, running back into the house and leaving the door wide open. "Miss Bella is here!" I wasn't sure if I should go in or wait out here. At least the porch was covered, so I wouldn't get wetter than I already was.

"Bella." The disembodied voice I recognized from the phone call reached me a split second before the most striking woman I'd ever seen walked into view. She was naturally blonde, with pale skin and plump lips. Her hair was so fair and striking that it almost created a halo around her.

"Please… come in." She looked at me, and it took my breath away when her eyes finally came to mine. "Maybe you could take your sneakers off though, so we don't have mud in the house?" She smiled at me. God, was I moving in with a neat freak?

"Oh, okay." I leaned down quickly to begin to unlace my sneakers.

"Not out there!" a booming voice called from behind Rosalie. "Come on in. You can sit down and take those off in here." A muscular man came up behind Rosalie.

He had an arm around her waist now and was smiling down at her with a playful smile. "Rose, sometimes you just don't think," he smirked, leaning down to kiss her.

"Miss Bella?" I heard as I walked in and sat on the bench by the front door.

"Yes?" I looked at the small boy before me for the first time. Now that I'd seen his mother, I could tell that this child was not her boyfriend's. His dark skin and black eyes were definitely from another relationship.

"Are you going to live here?"

"Yes." Rosalie kneeled down to his level, looking from him to me. "Miss Bella's going to live in Gram's old room and stay here with us."

"Yeah!" he hollered. "I'm gonna go get Sadie; you can meet him; he's the best, and if you want to, you can hold him, and I like to hold him, but you can't hold him too tight, or he'll get hurted and die, right, Mama?"

"Right, Roy." She smiled down at him.

I looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Sadie?"

"Hamster; Emmett got it for him for his half birthday this summer. Oh, Bella, I'm sorry; this is Emmett Cullen, my boyfriend I told you about."

"Hi," I greeted him, standing up on my safely de-shod feet to greet him.

"Hey, Bella!" He smiled so big you'd think he was part Labrador Retriever and reached out a hand for me to shake. His grasp was firm and warm, his smile pulling my heart out of the rain and into the warmth of their home.

"So, let me show you around, and you can settle in a little."

"Great, thanks."

"Bella, if you wanna give me your keys, I'll grab some of your stuff." Emmett sat down to pull on his boots.

"Maybe we should wait for the rain to stop…" I said, biting softly on my lower lip and making both Rosalie and Emmett laugh.

"So you're planning on never bringing it in then?" Emmett snickered and pulled on his frog jacket. I smiled and handed him my keys; I could tell that this house was a home to them, which would make it either the best possible place for me or the worst. More than likely, I wouldn't fit in, and I'd end up hiding in my room most of the time; such was college and every other social situation I found myself in, it seemed.

Rosalie showed me around the main part of the first floor that we'd be sharing, which was mostly just two large rooms. There was a nice living room with a TV and large, wood-burning fireplace that was decorated simply but with a lot of care.

"You're welcome to put anything you want in here; I'd really like it to be a comfortable place for us all." She smiled at me again. "I don't even have curtains up, and I've been here for a few years, so, you know, don't feel like you can't decorate a little."

Past the living room was a large kitchen with a full-sized table, big enough for four people to sit comfortably.

"This is fantastic," I beamed, looking around me.

"It's the only room I spent any money on when I got the house. Do you like to cook?"

"Yeah, I don't get a chance to do it often, but I'd love to learn."

"Well, I don't cook, but Emmett's amazing, and when he helped me do the work to the house and painted it on his days off without even complaining, I decided to invest a little in some nice pots and pans and a new stove. Feel free to use anything you want, really, and if you ask, I'm sure Emmett would love to teach you. He'd love to have someone to talk to about blanching and pureeing things."

"That sounds like a lot of fun."

"Back here is where my room, the bathroom, and Royce's room are," she said, pointing to a door next to the refrigerator. "I closed off the entrance from the main room so that we could feel like you had your space upstairs; I had mine back here, and the rest we could share."

"Thanks." I felt overwhelmed by how much thought she'd put into this.

She walked back out to the living room and led me upstairs to my part of the house. There was a door at the top of the stairs that opened into a large area that had probably originally been a loft space. There were two doors off of the main room; one led to a small but usable bathroom and the other to a small bedroom.

"This is amazing." I walked farther into the main room. "I feel bad only paying you $400 a month for it though; I mean, you could easily get more."

"Not around here." Rosalie shrugged. "Besides, with Royce in the house, I wanted to find someone we could get along with, not just have ghosting around up there." She smiled at me, making me feel like I'd found something I hadn't expected: a friend.

Emmett and I hauled my boxes and few pieces of furniture upstairs while Rosalie ordered a pizza; she wasn't kidding when she said she didn't cook. Over dinner, I learned that Emmett was the gym teacher and football coach at the local high school in Forks, and Rosalie was a legal secretary/office manager at the only law firm in town.

That night, when Rosalie was putting Royce to bed, I went upstairs, unpacked a few things, put my futon together in the bedroom, and pulled out my sheets. As I climbed into bed, I pulled the picture of my father out of its hiding place and smiled; he would have liked it here. It'd been a long day, and I fell asleep easily, listening to the rain beating out a familiar tune on the tin roof above me.

The next morning, I could smell the coffee from downstairs and threw on a sweatshirt over my pajama top. I left on the yoga pants that I'd slept in though, figuring there was no reason to pretend to be something I wasn't, right?

When I opened the door, I could hear Royce happily chatting away and Emmett laughing. I came into the living room, and Royce had 379 Hot Wheels lined up around the perimeter of the room.

"They's in a parade, Miss Bella!" he exclaimed when he saw me, running over and wrapping his arms around my legs. I picked him up quickly in a bear hug.

"Morning, sunshine!" Emmett said from the stove, where he was scrambling eggs in his pajama pants and a t-shirt. "Rose is still basking in bed, happy to have me here to take Royce to daycare; she'll be out in a while. I left the paper on the table for you too."

"Thanks." I disengaged myself from Royce's grasp and poured myself a cup of coffee.

"You're a good car; you can go to the parade. Not you, you're bad. Time out for you!" I listened as Royce went back to sorting his cars for his game.

The paper was already opened to the FOR SALE section, and I smiled up at Emmett's strong back. He was definitely a good guy. There were three or four cars in the paper, but all of them were out of my price range. Then I saw it:

**Classic Chevy Pickup  
Rough exterior but well loved  
New clutch and brakes****  
$200**

And that's how I found myself driving out to La Push a day before work began in Emmett's Jeep while he and Rosalie carpooled to work. The twenty minute drive went by quickly, especially since Emmett let me take off the top and undo the window flaps so I could enjoy the warm weather that had followed last night's rain. I loved these old things; it was perfect.

I pulled into the Quileute entrance to the Reservation, following the directions the man had given me on the phone down the main road and then off a small drive right before I got to the boardwalk. About thirty yards down the drive was a small red house with my new truck sitting in front of it.

As soon as I saw her, I knew she was going to be mine. Her body was curvy, long, and a rusty red color that showed off all of her features perfectly.

"Bella Swan, right?" the voice from the phone called out from behind me. I had been too taken in by the truck to remember that I was actually here to meet a person.

"Yeah, um, yeah, hi," I stuttered, turning around. Before me stood what had to be the definition of masculinity. He was easily 6'2" and broad in the shoulders. His hair was cut short and spiky, black against his bronzed skin. He had on low-slung baggy jeans and a tight t-shirt and was wiping his hands on what looked like a kitchen towel. I turned back to the truck to avoid staring at the man before me. What was it about him that made me feel like crawling up his body and begging him to tie me to the bed?

"So what do you think?" he asked, coming closer behind me. His voice was low and scratchy, and it almost seemed to vibrate from somewhere inside of me.

"She's perfect," I answered without looking up.

He laughed a full, throaty laugh. "Don't you even want to start her up?"

"Oh, right, yeah, but really, it doesn't matter." I looked up at him again, catching myself in the reflection of his eyes. "She's an amazing specimen."

"I'm glad you like her; I'd hate to see her go to someone who didn't appreciate her in all her glory." Then he smiled, looking deep inside me. His face was broad and unrestrained. "I'll go grab the keys." He turned away, leaving me in a stupor.

_Pull_ _yourself_ _together,_ _Swan_. _That's_ _totally_ _not_ _your_ _type_.

I returned to the car. Running my hands over her frame on the way, I checked out the flat bed. It was in rough shape; she'd definitely been well-used, but she had character, charm and a lot of soul. I climbed up into the back and looked at the yard around me.

"King of the mountain?" the man called up to me as he came back out.

"Heh, yeah, something like that." I smiled at him. Was I flirting? Bella Swan does not flirt. What was going on here?

He opened the car door and started to climb in.

"Ummm…May I drive?"

He hesitated. "Do you know how to…"

I interrupted with, "Oh, yeah."

Still hesitant, he said, "Most people don't know how to drive an old…"

"Well, it's going to be my car..."

He was so sweet, not wanting to offend me but not quite willing to hand over the keys. Finally, I convinced him, and I hopped out of the back and climbed in behind the wheel.

We drove out of La Push and up to Forks. He gave me directions, showing me how the truck handled on the less than well-maintained roads. He was patient as I learned the quirks of the truck and seemed to be enjoying the ride.

He didn't speak much, and I was paying attention to the feel of the truck, but his presence in the car was palpable. It was as if there was a heat rolling off of him, relaxing me, even as I navigated the sticky transmission.

"So why are you getting rid of her?" I asked as we pulled back into his driveway.

"Oh, well, Dad can't drive it anymore, so…I thought I'd see if I could make some money."

"Oh…is your dad…okay?"

"Sure, sure, he was in an accident, but he's fine; just can't drive."

"Well, that's good." I smiled up at him.

"Thanks," he said heavily, looking into me again, past my guards, past my reservations, right down into my heart.

"Okay, well, um, I brought my checkbook. $200, right?"

"Yeah, come on in. We can do the bill of sale and everything there."

I followed him back to his house, watching his long, sure gait and tight ass. _Mmmm,_ _I would love to chew on that ass… Stop it, Bella!_

The inside of his home was sparse but very clean. I stood in the doorway and waited while he went into another room to get the paperwork. He had a small couch and a TV on a stand in the corner of the room. There weren't many pictures on the walls, but the ones that were there looked like they might be of his family. I fought the urge to wander around and look at everything.

"So, you're taking her, huh?" asked a man rolling out of the kitchen in a wheel chair. He looked about the age my dad would have been now if he'd lived but was still incredibly handsome. He had the same confident stature his son had, regardless of his use of the wheel chair.

"Yeah, she's amazing," I gushed, hoping he would know how much I'd love his car.

"I bought her in '65 brand new. Only car I've ever owned." He looked out the window.

"I promise, sir, I'll take good care of her."

"Well, first, don't you be callin' me 'sir'; 's Billy. Second, if you mean that, then you'll never let a mechanic other than my boy back there touch 'er."

"Oh, yeah, I hadn't thought about that. Sure, I can do that." I smiled at the man before me. His eyes sparkled as he winked at me

"He's the best there is around here."

"Dad, stop trying to drum up business."

"Should know the truth, 's'all. Don't want her taking my girl down to those idiots in Port Angeles, do ya?"

"Guess not," he agreed, smiling and looking over at me. As his eyes hit mine, I blushed slightly and looked down.

"Okay, Ms. Swan, here we go. I just need you to sign here on my copy, and I'll sign your copy, okay? Then you can get plates from the DMV."

"Thanks, and it's Bella; just Bella."

"Sure, okay, nice to meet you, Bella." He reached his hand behind his neck, his confidence momentarily wavering. "I'm Jake, ah, Jacob Black."

Billy chuckled and rolled himself into the next room. "You guys want anything to drink?" he called.

"Oh, no, sir, I mean, Billy." I corrected myself quickly. "I need to get back and settle in; I start work on Thursday." I wasn't sure why I was telling this stranger so much about myself.

Jacob and I signed the papers while I told Billy about my position at the Reservation School.

"Oh, it'll be great to get someone in there with some energy. My nephew Seth is a senior, so if he gives you any trouble, just let us know."

"I'm sure it'll be fine, but thanks," I replied, smiling at the old man; he really was the kind of genuinely good person you don't meet everyday. "Okay, well, I guess I'm off…" I turned to walk outside. "How, ah, how can I get the car from you?"

"Oh, you can take it now," Jacob said, walking me out the front door. "Just bring me back the plates when you get your own."

"But I have the Jeep. I have to…"

"That's Emmet's Jeep, right?" Jacob asked, taking a small phone out of his pocket. He dialed a number quickly as I nodded.

"Em, hey, yeah… look, I sold my Dad's truck to some girl who has your Jeep… yeah, yeah, Bella… okay… no, how about I pick you up in the morning? Sure, sure, no problem… Okay, see you then." As he hung up, he smiled at me, making me momentarily weak in the knees, and I forgot all of my self-imposed restrictions about men. "Em and I work together, so I'll pick him up in the morning in the Jeep and just get a ride home. You can take your truck now."

"Oh, that's awesome!" I squealed, giddy to get in my truck. I held out my hand for the keys. As he dropped them into my hand, I smiled and looked to the ground. "Well, I guess I'll see you around," I said softly.

"If you're friends with Em, then yeah, I'll probably see you." He smiled at me but looked a little sad, like he was holding something back.

I walked over, climbed into my new best friend, and rolled down my window when Jake knocked. He put his hands on the door and leaned into the truck a little. "Bring her back soon, and I'll change the oil for you."

"Thanks." I didn't meet his eyes, putting the key in the ignition instead.

"Okay then…" He slapped the door frame and stepped back. I turned the key, started up my beautiful new truck, and sighed asshe growled to life. The engine had a smooth sound, and she grumbled her pleasure under my hands. I was going to like it in Washington State, I thought. I waved to the tall man outside my window and the older man on the porch, who watched as I drove out of the driveway and into my new life.


	2. Chapter 2

Listening to Bob Dylan in my truck, I drove from my second day at La Push High into downtown Forks. Singing along to 'Tangled Up In Blue,' I marveled at how comfortable I already was in my new home. Rosalie and Emmett had done everything imaginable to make me feel welcome, and Emmett and I had even bonded over grocery shopping the other day. I'd never known someone who took so much time comparing unit prices before.

La Push had even proven to be more welcoming than outward appearances would lead one to believe. Sam Uley was the principal at the small high school and had gone out of his way to help me learn the lay of the land. Grades, assignments, and class plans were all things I'd never done before, and I was grateful for all the advice he and the other teachers were giving me. I was in over my head, but they assured me I would be fine, and I had to trust that was true and this wasn't all some big practical joke.

I had a stack of books to read, and the book list last year's teacher had assigned my classes to read over the summer. Fortunately, I'd already read them all, so it wouldn't take long to re-read, but now I had to fashion some kind of lesson plans for the first few weeks. I would do that over the week-end; right now my brain was overwhelmed trying to remember everyone's names and what they taught. I was totally unprepared for when the kids showed up on Monday.

Today, I was getting some last minute things I'd forgotten to pack at the pharmacy/party shop/post office in town. Rosalie had given me directions, and I was now on my first official adventure in Forks, Washington.

Standing in the last aisle, I was flummoxed. There were nine different kinds of alarm clocks in a store that had only one brand of batteries. Why would anyone need this many options? All I needed was something that would beep. I sat down and took one of each off the shelf, making a semi-circle around me on the floor, and started reading all of the labels, sorting them according to their features. I was so engrossed in my project that I didn't notice the person standing in front of me, smirking.

"Is it really that complicated?" a familiar voice rumbled above me.

"You'd be surprised," I whined, looking up at the impressive figure of Jacob Black. He was backlit by the florescent lights of the store, making his hair glow; I resumed my sorting as I had to look away before I was struck dumb.

"Let me help." He settled down on the floor across from me, picking up boxes and setting them back down with no regard for my sorting.

"Hey! I have a system!" I protested.

"I like this one," he declared, "its green."

"Color isn't exactly my highest priority."

"Well, it should be. Having a pleasant color scheme is an important element of interior design."

"Oh, really?" I stopped what I was doing and smiled at the man across from me, who seemed to be taking up the entire isle. "And where did you hear that? _Better Homes and Gardens_?"

"I'm partial to _Martha Stewart_ myself," he teased, winking at me.

I could feel the heat rising to my face and the beginnings of a long-dead sensation in the pit of my stomach.

"Well, I've seen your house, and I'd hazard that you've never read one of those magazines."

"Hey now!" He held up both hands in mock defense.

I stood up and grabbed the green alarm clock. "Well, thanks for your help." I smiled, my eyes lingering on him longer than I'd intended.

"I'll just clean these up for you then?" He looked up at me with that smirk back on his face.

"No! I was just putting this in my cart. I wouldn't…"

"Okay, Bella, relax. I was just teasing." He put a hand out and touched my arm as I reached out to pick up a box. His fingers were warm, and I could feel the sensation of his touch spread out from his fingers, reaching toward my heart.

Before I felt too much, I pulled my hand back. "Oh, sorry." I bit on my lip and ducked my head.

We cleaned up the mess in silence, and when we were done, I awkwardly turned to Jacob. "So, thanks." I still couldn't meet his eyes.

"Sure, sure," he said as we stood there. The silence was growing between us, changing the comfortable banter we'd just shared into something thicker. I could feel the anticipation that hung in the air and the familiar prelude to emotional entanglement. _This is where I get off; my stop. Please, driver, stop the bus._

"Okay, I'm off." I smiled weakly and turned my back on him to head to the register, but I could still feel his presence behind me.

"Hey, so, I was gonna swing into the diner down on Kendel Street if you wanna…"

"Look, Jake," I began, turning to face him, "you seem really, really great, and I don't want you to think I don't like you or anything, but…"

"No, Bella-"

"No, it's just, I don't…date."

"Well, good, 'cause I wasn't asking you out on a date," he explained calmly, appraising my response.

"Oh!" I gasped, not expecting that at all. Usually, I got some snotty response or some desperate attempt to convince me to break my rule…just this once.

"So do you eat?"

I smiled up at his easy stance, hoping that he might be someone I could actually let in, even if just a little. "Yeah, yeah I do." I walked over and placed my items on the counter to check out.

"All right, well, since this isn't a date, I'll drive over there and get us a table, and you can meet me when you're done."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Excellent." His smile widened as he looked at me, making me blush again, but before I could come up with a reason to get out of this after all, he turned and started to walk out.

"Wait, Jake!" I called. "Where am I going?"

"Oh, just go down Main towards La Push and turn right on Kendell; it's about three blocks down on the left. You can't miss it. My Rabbit'll be parked in front."

"You leave your rodent parked in front of a diner?"

"Well, it's a car, first of all, and secondly, rabbits are mammals, not rodents."

"Huh. Okay then." I gave him a smile, but it was goofier than I'd hoped for. I turned back to pay as he walked out without another word.

What was I doing? This was not the plan. I was coming here to regroup; figure out who I was after college, after him. The only person I'd loved in my life had left me and was out there, somewhere, living his life without me. I hadn't heard a word from him since the day he told me he was moving… without me.

Without me.

Without me.

When I thought of him, that's all I could hear in my mind; that whatever it was he needed, he was finding _without_ _me_.

I threw my bags into the passenger seat of my truck and climbed in, shaking all thoughts of him out of my mind. I was here, and I was doing it myself.

I found the diner easily and walked into the interior of every other diner on the planet. The booths were red, and the stools were wooden. The sounds of laughter and gossip flowed over me as I looked around for Jacob in this postmodern non-place.

He was at a table on the other side of the diner, tucked into the corner, out of the way. His face lit up when he saw me, his smile showing his perfect white teeth.

"Bella!" he called out, waving, and for a moment, I felt torn in two. Part of me wanted to run, out of this diner, out of this town, and back to a place where I could comfortably dwell in my misery. Another smaller but persistent part of me was pulled to him, to his smile and warmth…

"Hey!" I waved back and walked toward him, but as I went, I found the one, small imperfection in the linoleum floor and felt myself begin to keel forward. My legs were tangled in each other, and I started to bring my hands up to catch myself before slamming my face into the hard floor, but instead of the crack of bone, I heard a rumbling laugh and felt warm arms wrapping around me.

"Careful there," he whispered into my hair, and he lifted me back to an upright position.

"Thanks," I mumbled, embarrassed to have needed rescuing but glad to not need stitches - this time.

"No worries," he assured me, leading the way back to our table. "What'd you trip on?"

"Nothing…"

"Nothing?" His eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Yeah, well, you know, gravity works." I smiled up at him weakly, only to see his eyes twinkle a moment before he burst into laughter.

"Yes, yes, it does. We're all a victim there."

"It's an unstoppable force."

"Damn that Newton."

"D'ja call me?" someone asked from the table next to ours. I turned and saw a man with blond hair, just a little older than myself, eyeing Jacob strangely.

"Nah, Mike, different Newton." Jake smiled tightly.

"All right then," the man sneered, turning back to his food.

"What was that?" I whispered to Jacob when I was sure this Newton had forgotten about us.

"Oh, that? Nothing." He leaned back in his seat and put his hand on the back of his neck.

As he stretched, I could see the contours of his arms and chest, his abs sculpted under his t-shirt, making me blush just to think of what it would be like to touch him.

"See something you like, Swan?" He grinned at me.

"No! I, ah…"

"Right, right, you don't date… I forgot." He flashed me that wicked smile I'd started to dread and long for.

"Look, maybe I should just go," I announced, standing up.

"Come on, Bella, sit down. I'm just playing. No need to be skittish; I promise."

I sighed, sitting down. The smaller part of me that was drawn to him shouted down the Bella that wanted to crawl under a rock and never look at another man again.

We ordered our food and talked a little about Forks and which stores sold what.

"So you're a teacher?" he asked as our food arrived.

"Not really, just for the next two years at least."

"Huh, well, I teach some over at the vocational college."

"Yeah? What do you teach?"

"Oh, well, mostly auto mechanics. That's what I was hired for, you know, practical skills and all that, but I've been trying to get them to let me do a sculpture class. They don't seem all that into it though."

"You sculpt?" I looked down at his strong hands, thinking of the skill it must take to create something with them.

"Yeah, I mean, I do some wood-working and metal sculpture and stuff." He ran his hand through his hair. It was strange to see him falter in his confidence.

"You should teach in La Push! I bet Sam would think it was a great idea."

"Yeah, maybe…" he mumbled, taking another bite of his steak.

Sensing the conversation was over, I dug into my chicken pot pie, blowing on it to cool it enough so I didn't get burned. We ate in semi-silence, but it was surprisingly comfortable.

Just being here was a relief, like there was nothing I needed to do or worry about, and as I thought about that, I realized it was true; I had nothing to rush to or stress over. I had a great place to live, some new friends, and a new job… I felt a smile spread across my face as I looked out the window and saw the first drops of the evening rain.

The sky sparkled with raindrops, light fracturing within them as they fell.

"What are you smiling at?" Jacob asked, his head cocked to the side and a soft look in his eye.

"Just happy to be here, I guess." I smiled at him too and found myself gazing at his lips, wondering if they felt as soft as they looked.

"So you're right out of college, huh?" I heard him ask as I fought to break my eyes away from his mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, I graduated from Arizona State in May."

"Huh."

"Where'd you go?"

"Oh, I didn't go to college."

"Oh, sorry, I guess I just…"

"I, ah, well, after I graduated from high school, I just hung around for a year and then went into the Air Force."

"Oh, wow, did you, like, fly planes?"

"Nah, I was trained as a mechanic and got to work on all the planes. Some of it was boring, but for the most part, it was really cool."

"Wow, that sounds amazing."

"Yeah, well, after my two years, I was gonna stay, but Dad got hurt, so I decided to come back here. And now I work at the school and do some mechanic work for folks, and that's good."

"Wait, two years? How old are you?"

"Oh, I'm at least forty-five."

"Come on."

"No, really, you can't get this weathered, sexy look without a little age." He winked at me.

"I can tell you aren't forty-five," I giggled.

"Okay, how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-three."

"Then I have to be at least twenty-four."

"And why is that?"

"Well, you're so…little; I must be older than you."

"Hmmm, but you said out of high school you spent a year doing nothing, so that would have made you eighteen and then two years in the military, so I'd say twenty? Twenty-one?"

"Crap, you caught me."

"Yeah, well, those deductive reasoning skills come in handy," I boasted.

"I can imagine." He smiled his big smile again, taking a final bite of his meal. "I'm stuffed."

"No unbuttoning your pants at the table."

"You wish, Swan."

"I seriously think not," I giggled, throwing my napkin at him.

"Okay, well, let me pay, and then we can maybe walk around a little."

"I don't know; that sounds precariously like a date."

"Okay then," he taunted with that wicked smile, "you pay."

I laughed and grabbed the check, walking up to the cashier. Taking my wallet out of my back pocket, I paid for our meal and turned to find him standing, looking down at me.

"Come on, there's something I want to show you." He held out his arm invitingly.

_Do I take it? _Was it just a gesture to usher me out?_ What would it feel like to have Jacob's arm around me_? It would be warm; I was sure. I wondered what he smelled like…

I quickly shook my head to clear the thoughts and walked out, ignoring Jacob's arm.

"Come on." He walked quickly in the lightly falling rain. "It's just up around the corner."

"Do we need an umbrella?"

"No, it's not far." He held out his hand, and without thinking, I grabbed it, jogging through the rain hand in hand with Jacob Black.

When we got to our destination, we were wet but not soaked. We were in front of a small house that said "Books and Buns" on the front. I smiled at Jacob, surprised to find that he would know just the right place to bring me.

Inside was a small used bookstore with a coffee and pastry bar. Upstairs, there was a loft space that was full of rows and rows of books. "There're two floors up there, and the basement is full of books too," Jacob spoke softly into my hair, and I became distinctly aware that my hand was still joined with his.

"This is amazing," I whispered, pulling my hand from his slowly and floating upstairs. "I could spend years here." My eyes got wider and wider, and the smell of dust and paperbacks settled over me. "How did you know?" I turned to ask him and found that, instead of following me, he was looking at some books on a shelf by the door.

He brought me here and left me alone. _Amazing_. I couldn't have asked for anything better; being here with someone as fantastic as Jake seemed to be and having the time to explore a bookstore without him hovering over me… _amazing_.

For the next forty-five minutes, I wandered around, touching the books and pulling a few choice selections to take home with me. One could never have enough books. After I paid, I found Jacob sitting at one of the tables by the coffee bar, looking through a book.

"What'd'cha find?"

"Oh, it's, ah," he turned the book to look at the cover, "_A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius_. I had to check it out. Anything with that pompous of a title must be good, right?" He smiled up at me, and for a moment, I forgot where we were and even who I was.

"What'd'you think?" I asked, sitting across from him.

"It's okay so far; not sure it qualifies as staggering genius though. You?"

"Oh, um, I found _Under a Glass Bell_. It's really hard to find anymore. And _Lili_.There were at least ten more I could take home, but I thought I'd start small."

"You wanna get some coffee?"

"I do, but…I feel like I should get home. My roommate might be worrying about me."

"So call her! Come on, let's get some coffee and hang out a little. I haven't had a night out in a while, and since it's not a date, we can just relax and have fun, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I agreed against my better judgment, taking out my phone to call Rosalie.

"Hey, yeah, I'm still in town," I answered automatically, barely paying attention to the other end of the phone line, "No, I'm okay; met up with a friend and grabbed some dinner…yes, I have friends other than you…no, you don't…okay…I won't be too late…okay, I'll turn everything off when I get home… Bye."

"Get your curfew extended?"

"Something like that."

"Okay, what do you want? Coffee's my treat since you paid for dinner…naaat, no arguing!"

"Okay, umm, I'll have a hazelnut latté and a… blueberry scone."

"All right, I'll be right back."

I opened my new Anais Nin book and read while listening to Morcheeba playing on the speakers. I settled into my seat and read a few pages before I heard Jacob coming back with our drinks. He placed everything down on the table gently before sitting down.

"So, Forks isn't so bad, see?" he asked, looking at me.

"I never said it was!"

"No, but I could tell. We're a small town here, but there are a lot of cool people and some fun little shops like this one."

"Well, this place is amazing. I mean, like, this is what I would love to do; have my own little shop like this."

"Sounds like a good fit."

"I used to work in a Barnes and Noble in college, and it was awful. There was no character, and no one who worked there had read half the books, so they couldn't really tell the customers about them. No one talked, and it was just a job - might as well have been in the electronics department of Wal-Mart." I warmed to hear him chuckle. "But this place, this is like book heaven!"

"It's one of my favorite places too. Plus, they don't mind if you just hang out for a while."

"Good to know. Thanks for bringing me here."

"Anytime," he offered, a little too seriously for a non-date, so I took a bite of my scone.

"So, you came from Arizona. Is that where your family is?" he asked quickly, changing the conversation to safer ground.

"Yeah, that's where my mom and her husband Phil live."

"Phil's not your Dad."

"No, my Dad passed away."

"Oh, that sucks."

"Yeah…well, I was eight, so it was a long time ago."

"Doesn't make it suck any less," he emphasized pointedly.

"No, I guess it doesn't." I spoke into my latté before taking a sip

"Hmm," he muttered, nodding, "looks like it's really a mess out there now." He observed as he looked out the window.

"Oh, god…" I groaned, watching the water streak across the glass door of the bookstore.

"Here, give me your books; I can put them in my pocket so they don't get wet." He held out his hand, taking my books and stuffing them into the pocket of his cargo pants. "Come on, can't Swans swim?"

I stood and walked to the threshold of the door and cringed. "Can't we wait it out?"

"They're turning the lights off, Bella; we can leave now or spend the night here, but something tells me that snuggling in the self-help section isn't on your list of acceptable non-date activities."

"Ugggh, okay…"

Jacob opened the door and practically pushed me out into the rain. I tried covering myself with my arms but within ten seconds, it was clear it was useless.

"Oh, _my_ _god_!" I raised my hands above my head and tilted my face up to the sky, embracing the inevitability of the rain. For a moment, I let myself loose in the water. The sky was dim and streetlights were beginning to flicker on as I spun in circles on the sidewalk in front of Books and Buns, laughing.

The water was warm, and the air was still; the rain washed away my burgeoning adulthood and carried me back to childhood, where mud pies were culinary feats and puddles were oceans of joy. _Ohhh_, _puddles_! And my spinning became a gleeful dance in and out of the dips in the sidewalk.

All of a sudden, there was a tidal wave of water rushing toward me as I saw Jacob jump with both feet into the puddle next to me.

"You bitch!" I screamed, laughing and running after him. We jumped in puddles and giggled, weaving around each other, careful not to get too close but not wanting to be too far apart.

I could see the eleven-year-old, lanky boy he used to be laughing his toothy grin as the awkward teenager I was wondered what it would feel like to kiss him in the rain.

As we got closer to the car, our pace slowed, not wanting the fun to end, not wanting to be adults who had to work and care for parents and worry about getting the seats of our cars wet; one last splash as the rain slicked my hair against my face, and Jacob rung out the water in his shirt in a fruitless attempt to dry off.

"You know, Bella, I can see your nipples." He laughed as I looked down and realized I was wearing a white t-shirt.

"Oh, my god!" I screamed over the cracks of thunder, but instead of hiding myself away in a turtle-shell of shame, I ran at him and jumped on his back, covering his eyes. "No looking!"

"Off of me, you monster!"

"What, can't big Jake shake a little girl like me off of his back?"

And then I was on the ground, in the grass behind the diner parking lot, mud soaking into the back of my shirt, my breath coming fast from wrestling with Jacob, my clothes sticking to my skin, leaving nothing to the imagination, and Jacob Black was hovering above me with a fire in his eyes.

"Jake..."

"I know, Bella…not a date…" he growled softly before bringing his lips down to mine. His kiss was warm and slow. He pulled away a millimeter, making me reach toward him to keep it from ending. He had one hand on my jaw, the other mashed into the mud next to us as he kissed me again and again. I felt the fire inside of me burning, melting the ice that I kept between my heart and the world.

Dizzy and overwhelmed, I slid my fingers through his hair as he sucked my lower lip into his mouth until the outside light from the diner turned off.

"You should get home," he breathed into my mouth before licking my top lip.

"Yeah…" I moaned, lifting my chest up to meet him and rubbing myself against him.

"Come on." He pulled away completely and stood up. He reached his hand down to help me up, and we both laughed at the indentation of my body in the mud where I had been lying.

The rain was slowing as we walked back to my truck silently. He leaned against the door as I unlocked it. "You know, this was the best non-date I've ever had."

"Humph." I hit him in the chest lightly and was rewarded with a growl.

"You okay to drive home in the rain?" he asked, looking down at me.

"Yeah, I'm getting used to the weather here."

"Okay…uh, I don't have your number or anything…but…" He looked down and shuffled cutely.

"But, Jake, you forget…" I said before leaning in to whisper in his ear, "I don't date…"


	3. Chapter 3

Saturday morning, I woke up and checked the clothes I'd rinsed out in the shower the night before. Everything was still wet, and traces of mud could be found, but at least it was clean enough to put in the washer. I gathered everything into my plastic basket and threw in the few things I had that were dirty.

I still had that goofy smile on my face from the night before. Not-dating Jacob could be fun, but I needed to make sure he knew that despite that kiss, I was _not_ dating him. I wasn't in any position to get emotionally involved with anyone. This was the first time in my life that I was alone, on my own and responsible to no one. I had gone from my mother's house to college and was there for all of three weeks before I started dating _him_. Six months later, we moved in together, and I hadn't had a moment to myself since.

Part of this adventure was to figure out who I was on my own. What was I without him? Who was I when there was no one watching? Isn't that the real measure of who a person is: how they behave when there's no one around? Does it count as stealing if no one is watching the store?

I'd already unpacked what I brought into the dresser Rosalie had put up here for me, but I was beginning to miss some of the necessities of life, like a bookshelf or a chair. Maybe next weekend would be good yard-sale weather. I was going to be here for two years; no reason not to nest. Maybe I could even find a nice frame for the picture of Dad…

I picked up my basket and headed downstairs, stopping when I heard muffled voices below me.

"Dammit, Rosie, I'm only ten minutes late."

I tried to turn around and go back in my room, but the door had locked from the inside again, and the extra key was in the kitchen junk drawer. I didn't want to eavesdrop, but I was stuck unless I wanted to go down there… which really I didn't.

"Every weekend, every _goddamn_ weekend, you're late, and he's disappointed."

"Look, it's ten minutes, okay?"

"I'm so tired of this; I don't know why you bother."

"He's my son; that's why," I heard the man downstairs seethe.

"More's the pity." I'd never heard Rosalie sound so vitriolic!

"Look, just go get him, and we'll take off, okay?"

"He's packing his cars; he'll be out in a minute."

"Oh, so you didn't even have him ready? You want me here ten minutes ago but would have made me wait in the car while he packed his fucking cars, right?"

"Do not use that language in my house!"

"Sure, because you're a saint. Where the hell's Emmett? This all goes better when he's here."

"That's because for some unknowable reason, he can stomach being in your presence."

"Rosie, you are unbelievable, on your high horse as if any of this was my doing."

"Please, I knew better than to want you involved, but here we are…"

"Daddy!" Royce called out with glee. I could hear him stomping through the house and could almost picture the smile that would be taking over his face.

"Hey, RoeRoe!"

"Daddy, I brought my spaceship jammies, so we can read the book about NASA again, and when I'm big, I'm gonna be an astronaut and live in the space station."

"I'm sure you are, buddy. You have all your stuff?"

"Oh yeah, wait, I didn't get Sadie."

"Honey, you can't take Sadie to your dad's," Rosalie said sweetly. Whatever was going on with her ex didn't change how much she obviously loved that little boy.

"But, Mama, I wanna show him to Papa!"

"But RoeRoe, the puppy might hurt Sadie," the man explained.

"Puppy?" Rosalie asked slowly, the anger evident to anyone listening who wasn't a three-year old.

"Yeah, I wanted to get a dog to have around when I'm not home. I thought we'd go to the shelter in Port Angeles today. What do you think, Roe?"

"A puppy, really? A real one, Daddy, not a stuffed one like my black doggy on my bed but a real one?"

"Yeah, a real one." Whoever this guy was, his tone with his son was full of love. I felt terrible spying on this moment, but I was completely stuck.

"I'm gonna go get my fluffy doggy and bring it for the puppy to meet!" Royce squealed and ran off to his room to get something.

"You're getting a dog?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"And why the fuck not, Rosie?

"A dog could be dangerous, and you don't know what kind of animals are at the shelter. Besides, have you ever even had a dog? Do you know how to train them or anything?"

"Oh, wait, I forgot, tell me again how it's any of your fucking business?"

"Unacceptable!"

"Yeah, right, okay, you know what? I'll wait on the porch."

"If you hadn't gone to the court, I wouldn't even let you see him let alone take him for the weekend."

"Don't I know it, babe?" I heard as the front door slammed.

I listened to the silence for a few beats before heading downstairs. I saw Rosalie standing in the foyer, her face hard as if it had been carved out of marble. "Morning, Rosalie," I said, not wanting to pretend she wasn't there.

"Hmmmph," she answered without looking at me. I hustled to the kitchen where the door to the basement and laundry was and ran into Royce.

"Bye, Miss Bella! My daddy's here!"

"Have fun, Royce. I'll see you when you get home."

"Okay, byeeeee." He ran out to hug his mother goodbye before leaving.

The basement of Rosalie's house had a dirt floor that tended to be uncomfortably moist. The part of me that belonged to my mother couldn't help but wonder what kinds of things were living in that dirt… So I slipped on the flip-flops I left at the top of the stairs and shuffled down. Rose had a decent washer and dryer set, and I'd made sure to get the Woolite Dark that I liked when we were at the store. Most of my clothes were jeans or dark, so I tended to go through that the fastest. Plus, there was something about using the same kind of detergent over and over that solidified a certain smell as yours.

Upstairs, I could hear Rosalie slamming things around in the kitchen. I hadn't had the opportunity to deal with her in a bad mood yet, and despite liking her so far, I wasn't looking forward to it.

"Want me to make some coffee?" she called down to me.

"No, I'll do it. I'll be right up." I'd already learned that her lack of cooking had less to do with interest and more to do with skill. I'd had to put one fire in the microwave out already and wasn't looking forward to whatever horrible thing she would do if left to prepare coffee on her own.

I finished stuffing my clothes into the washer, pulled the switch that turned the water on, and flip-flopped back up the stairs.

"Strong this morning?" I asked a tired looking Rosalie, who was sitting at the table.

"Most definitely."

I pulled the half-caff out of the freezer and put in an extra scoop for good measure. I could add enough sugar to cover it up if it was too bitter.

"So…" she started as we waited for the water to filter through and become the nectar of morning functionality. "Where were you last night?"

"Oh, just out to dinner with someone I met in town and then to this great book store."

"Books and Buns?"

"Yeah, it's amazing."

"It is. The girl who runs it is mousey but cute. You'd probably really like her."

"Are you implying I'm mousey?"

"You have some mouse-like qualities." Rosalie laughed. It was easy to get offended by her if you allowed yourself to think about what she said too closely, but as long as you processed everything through the Rosalie-is-a-bitch filter first, she was really quite sweet and funny.

"So you gonna see him again?"

"What makes you think it was a he?" I asked, cocking my eyebrow.

"Just your general bounciness this morning."

"Hmmmm..."

"You gonna tell me about him?"

"Not yet; so far there's nothing going on… just another interesting person to get to know in Western Washington State."

"Hmmm," she said distractedly, staring out the window.

"You miss him when he's not here, don't you?"

"Both of them…"

"So was that Royce's dad I heard?"

"Yeah, unfortunately."

"Oh…" I got up to pull down some mugs now that the coffee was percolating away.

"He's just such a little kid. I really never even wanted him to know about Royce, but I guess since I didn't leave town, there was no way to avoid it, and he looks just like him."

"His dad's from La Push?" I asked, not wanting to pry but hoping that was a safe question. I mean, it was easy to tell the kid didn't get his coloring from Rosalie.

"Yeah, have fun working down there, but watch out, the guys are players, and a lot of them never grow up; lots of unemployment and kids our age still living at home." Her voice was full of judgment. "Lots of losers."

"So far everyone I've met seems nice…"

"Nice, yeah…just keep your legs crossed." She got up to get a breakfast bar out of the cupboard. I grabbed a yogurt out of the fridge and poured some granola on top, pretty sure that the conversation was over.

It had never occurred to me not to keep my legs crossed while I was here. The kiss with Jacob was nice, but there was no part of me that was prepared to cross that bridge anytime soon; especially since we weren't dating. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I could see Jacob hovering above me with that fire in his eyes, and I flushed, wondering what it would be like to have him look at me that way in my bed.

The weekend passed quickly as I reread the first book I planned to discuss in class. A few online lesson plan tutorials and a lot of anxiety later, and I had at least the first week's assignments and lectures outlined. Saturday night, Emmett and I played a particularly treacherous game of Scrabble, where he tried desperately to convince me that "cockmine" was a word. However, neither Webster nor Google agreed with him.

Sunday evening, Emmett and I were working in the kitchen, trying to follow a recipe for Chicken and Asparagus Enchiladas while Rosalie complained that they weren't really enchiladas with those ingredients.

The front door opened without a knock, and I heard Royce run in. "Mama! I'm home!"

"Hey, Roy!" she called, getting up to hug him in the living room. "You need to knock to come in my house," I heard her spit as the door closed.

"Great..." Emmett muttered, reaching to open the cheese package so he could shred it.

"Whatever, he's here. Bye."

"Wait, I need to talk to you. Royce, go on into the kitchen."

Royce came sulking into the kitchen and dove directly under the kitchen table.

"You're late on your support."

"I don't owe you any fucking support, remember?"

I crouched next to the high-backed dining room chair and looked under at the boy sucking his thumb and picking at a scab on his ankle.

"Hey…" I said, but he didn't respond or look at me.

"Just because your stupid tribe doesn't have to pay taxes doesn't mean you don't need to help support your son!"

I lay down on the floor and scooted the upper half of my body under the table with Royce. "That taste good?" I asked, looking at him. I inspected my own thumb. "I wonder…" I mused before putting mine in my mouth and nodding my head. "Hmmm."

Royce looked at me and giggled a little around his moist finger.

"…take him back to the Reservation and keep him, but I don't. You know why?"

"You're an irresponsible mongrel, but at least you have the sense to know you can't take care of another human being?"

"So what'cha doing under here?" I asked.

"I'm a turtle."

"Ohhhh..."

"…you wouldn't know."

"At least I try. What do you do? Bitch loud enough for everyone around you to listen?"

"What are you doing under here, little turtle?" I inquired, hoping to pull the boy before me out of his shell.

"Losing my colors," the sweet soul before me whispered, finally looking at me with tears in his eyes.

"That's it!" Emmett roared, throwing the dishtowel that had been draped over his shoulder onto the table above us. He strode into the living room.

"All right, you two, outside! That's enough; you know we can hear everything you're saying? Figure out how to talk to each other or go back to mediation, but this shit stops now."

"Wanna see my dinosaurs?" Royce asked me, taking his thumb out of his mouth.

"I really do." I smiled, remembering listening to my mother sobbing on the bathroom floor as I tried to make myself lunch for school. Childhood sucks, and then your parents get involved, and everything goes to hell. "Let's go see them."

The first week of school was a blur; the students were nice enough, but it was extremely difficult to watch my mouth around them. I've never wanted to refer to a group of human beings as miserable cocksuckers so badly before. Despite it being a completely accurate description, I had to refrain if I wanted to keep from being sent to the principal's office myself.

Every evening, I holed up in my rooms, went over the day's assignments, and prepared for tomorrow. I thought teachers were supposed to have an easier schedule than the rest of us, but so far, all I was doing was working from the time I got up in the morning until I passed out on my trusty futon at night.

I had Seth Clearwater, Jacob's cousin, in my Senior English class and was surprised to see that he looked nothing like his uncle's family. He was tall and skinny, with long hair and a baby face. He chose a seat in the back, didn't talk much, had every assignment ready on time, and always knew the answers when called on. He reminded me of myself in high school; avoiding attention but good at the academic parts of school.

My classes were a little different from the others because I was so close in age to the kids. I didn't require them to ask to use the bathroom, and I didn't take attendance. I imagined that, at some point, that would be an issue with Sam, but I didn't really care. These kids had to learn how to deal with life at some point, and a little extra freedom now would make it easier when they were thrown out into the real world after high school.

By far, my favorite class was already creative writing. I had one student a day present a piece in whatever stage of creation it was in and broke the class out into writing groups, brainstorming groups, and polishing groups, depending on where they were in their projects, allowing the kids to move around as their work dictated. I was particularly impressed with the visceral piece that one of the young girls, a junior named Claire, had presented about someone she was dating.

As soon as the students realized that I wasn't going to give them a hard time for whatever language they chose to use or subject matter they brought in, this was going to be a fun class. I was considering bringing in some of my work to read to them but wondered what I could read that wouldn't end up with me sitting outside of Sam's office like a troubled teen.

Friday after work, I finally got to the DMV and registered the truck. With my new plates safely attached, I drove back to La Push to return the old plates to Jacob. I hadn't spoken to him since our non-date last week, and I could feel the anticipation of seeing him rising in my chest. I'd made a point not to call or get in touch with him at all this week, choosing to focus on why I was here, but now that it was the weekend, what could the harm be? Besides, I did need to return the plates. It's not like I was making up a reason to see him, right?

As I pulled into the now familiar Quileute entrance to La Push, I felt the butterflies spreading, making the hair on the back of my neck tingle. I wondered if there was a chance I'd get to kiss him again or see that body of his outlined by the wet cloth of his t-shirt.

I drove down his long drive, but before I could turn my truck off, I saw him, running out of his garage with that big, open smile on his face as he called my name.

"Bella!" He came to pick me up into a hug.

"Your plates," I stated, pushing them against his chest and stopping him before he touched me.

"Riiiight," he snickered. "How's she treating you?" He took a step back and looked at the truck.

"She's perfect; I can't believe how well she runs."

"Well, you know, when you have an expert mechanic around…"

"Right, how could I forget, the great and powerful Jacob Black?"

"Indeed," he smiled broadly. Silence stretched between us for a moment. "Hmmm…well, thanks for bringing these back." He turned back to his garage.

I watched him go as he slowly faded away, but his smile was evident in every movement. "Jake…" I called, my head tilted to the side.

"Oh? Did you want something else?" He looked over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows.

"Come on, what are you doing tonight?"

"What's that now?" he teased, turning to me, that cocky smile on his face and his arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

"Stop being an ass." I walked toward him slowly.

"Who me?" He cocked an eyebrow, his smile warming as he fought laughing.

"Okay, never mind. I'll find something to do by myself."

"You'll never have as much fun…"

"We'll see." I turned back around to my truck.

"Let me finish what I'm working on, okay, Bella?"

"Yeah, sure," I agreed, following him back into his garage. He had the stereo on loud, and before he turned it down, I made out the familiar tune:

_When all my hopes and dreams  
Have been betrayed  
I stand before you  
My hands are empty  
I am yours  
If you are mine_

"Tracy Chapman?"

"Well, yeah, what'd you expect?"

"I don't know, maybe Metallica or Green Day."

"Hmmm, well, they have merit but not when I'm working."

And that's when I saw the structure before me. Inside his garage was a life-sized woodcarving of a woman. Only her top half was done, the bottom just beginning to take shape, but what I could see being birthed out of the large tree before me was astounding. Her face was still rough, with no specific features, but the hair was carved with such detail and fine lines that you could almost see it moving in the wind.

"Jacob…" I whispered, walking closer to her. Her neck was long and graceful, the muscle taut against the smooth surface of the wood. I reached out my hand to touch it but stopped, afraid of such intimacy.

"It's okay to touch it. I've been oiling her all day to keep the wood soft."

"This is immaculate," I whispered, running a finger lightly down her neck and feeling the turn of her head along the muscle to her shoulder. Her bone structure showed through the elastic look of her skin, just as it would if she were alive. I allowed my hand to run down the length of her arm, until the wood became rougher and the lines hard at her elbow. I ran my eyes across her chest, noting the swell of her breasts and the soft lift that made them look plump and soft to touch. A sheet was beginning to be shaped above the right nipple, held in place by the arm that curved across her body.

"I can't believe you made this."

"Yeah, well…" He put one hand behind his neck, lifting his arm so that his shirt rode up slightly, and I could see the hard outline of his hip. I tore my eyes away, feeling the warmth in my chest that had been with me last Friday return with a slow burn.

"How long have you been working on her?" I turned back to the creature before me, seeing something new with every glance - the planes of her cheeks and the detail of the wood grain running along her shoulder.

"Oh, ahh, about two months. Whenever I have some time, I come out here… she started just as an idea; I was going to do a series of faces in the wood, like a totem pole but of all the different kinds of faces here in La Push, but as I worked on her, she…I don't know, fleshed out? I couldn't leave her to move on to the next face…"

"This is really... just... an amazing thing you've done." I touched her again, almost believing I could run my fingers through her hair.

"Thanks," he muttered shyly, looking down. "I was just finishing oiling her, so I can work on her tomorrow without worrying about her breaking or splintering or anything."

"Can I help?"

"Really? You want to help?"

"Sure, I mean, if it's okay. I don't want to be in your way…"

"No, that'd be great… it's just, no one's ever asked before." He smiled up at me, his eyes clear and welcoming. "Here, grab a rag." He walked over to his workbench, took a rag out of a bucket, and threw it at me, keeping one for himself as well. "Put some oil on it." He picked up a small metal canister and tipped it on to his rag before handing the container to me.

I copied him, watching as the oil was quickly absorbed. Pouring more on, I looked up and saw him standing in front of the sculpture, caressing her right shoulder with his oily rag.

"Okay," I said, walking around her so that I was standing in front of him, the sculpture between us.

"Take the rag and start at the top of whatever area you're working on," he instructed, placing his rag right under the ear at the top of her neck, "and then smoothly wipe down in long, even strokes, letting the oil soak in as you go." He ran his hand down her neck and over her shoulder, the rag trailing along her skin behind him. He placed his free hand where the woman's waist would be and unconsciously leaned into his stroking.

I placed my rag up under the bottom of her hair and ran my hand down along her shoulder blades, which protruded slightly before sloping into her spine. I watched as the wood soaked in the oil; it changed from a pale grey color to a smooth light brown, the wood shining slightly, as if she'd spent the day in the sun and was still glowing with the slick sweat on her skin.

"That's right," he encouraged, watching me as he moved along the shoulder and arm, up to the unfinished fingers holding the sheet modestly over any flesh that shouldn't be on public display.

We worked in silence, periodically getting more oil and listening to the quiet lamentations of Tracy Chapman. I watched his hands when I was sure he wasn't watching; the gentle pressure he used with the sculpture made me imagine how warm his touch would be, his fingers warm and smooth from oil.

Jacob worked his way around her front and down to the harder wood that wasn't finished. Some of it had outlines of the detail that would come as he continued to work, and some of it was still in rough form. There was no distinguishable shape from below the waist line.

I finished oiling her back, allowing the oil and grain of the wood to tell me how much it needed. Jacob's face was soft and relaxed as he looked at his creation; he was working lower now, on his knees before her, oiling the rough areas that he'd be shaping next. I came next to him, standing closer than I needed to and smelling the warm scent of oil and wood.

"Hey." He looked up at me dreamily. "Tomorrow I'm going to do some fine sanding, see if I can clean up her front before working on the bottom."

"What is there to clean up? She looks amazing."

"Thanks. I just…I can see how much more she can be…" And he looked up at his sculpture like a devotee before his God.

I reached out my hand and touched his cheek softly before I realized what I was doing it. His head leaned into my touch, and he sighed, a heavy sound, full of a life yet to be lived. And in that moment, I imagined what could happen next. I could kneel down next to him and pull his face to mine. I could kiss him and lose myself in the warmth of his body, making love at the altar of his art. I could see days full of promise and joy, and then I could see him leaving; going on to whatever would come next in his life…without me…and I pulled my hand away, stepping back.

He looked up at me with confusion and hope in his eyes before standing and stepping toward me. "Why do you do that?" he asked in a whisper.

"Do what?"

"You know what; pull away just after opening up to me."

"Jake…I don't want you to get the wrong idea, okay? Me being here…"

"Is not a date," he said sadly but with a smile.

"No, it's not."

"Despite looking and sounding and feeling like a date?"

"Despite that, yes." I reiterated, looking down at the oil-stained floor between us.

"Okay then." He plastered on the good humor that usually came so naturally to him. "Since it's not a date, I'm going to order a pizza full of onions, peppers, and any other stinky item that strikes my fancy. Are you staying?"

"I don't know…"

"Come on, my dad's out at a council meeting and will be getting a ride home late. I'm on my own, and I'm pretty sure Netflix just delivered two more movies. I'll even sit on the floor, so you don't have to worry about me getting too handsy on the couch." He cracked a smile that was mocking in its sincerity.

"All right, Jake," I agreed, shaking my head as I smiled at him, glad to be here.


	4. Chapter 4

We walked inside, and he handed me the Netflix envelopes to open while he grabbed the phone and dialed. The first envelope I opened had _Shawn of the Dead_ in it, making me laugh; pretty much exactly what I expected from him, but the second had _The Fountain_, which I'd been wanting to see.

I placed _The Fountain_ into the DVD player as Jake called from his kitchen. "Want a beer?"

"Sure, yeah, thanks!" I called back, hunting for the remote. The house was surprisingly clean, especially considering that two men lived here. As I looked for the remote in the couch, I noticed that even under the cushions was clean. I finally found it wedged behind the recliner and the wall, which I had to lie on the floor and stretch along on my side to reach.

As I wiggled back out, I turned and saw Jacob was standing there with a beer in each hand and a glint in his eye. "You aren't going to make this easy on me, are you?" he asked with a rasp in his voice.

"What? I had to get the remote!"

"Sure, sure," he laughed, putting the beer down on the table and settling on the floor in front of the couch. "Oh, good, you put this one in."

"Yeah, I've wanted to see it."

He smiled up at me and reached out for the remote, which I handed to him as I walked by and picked up my beer. I settled into the old but comfortable couch.

"Am I allowed to turn the lights off?" he asked, craning his neck around to look at me.

"S'long as you stay on the floor."

"Promise." He held his hands up.

"Okay then," I laughed.

He got up and turned the lights off as the movie began; it was a slow starter but pulled us in with stunning visuals from the very beginning. Now and then I could hear Jacob muttering at the screen, but for the most part, we sat comfortably silent.

The pizza arrived just as the priest revealed the location of the Tree of Life with his dagger. We ate in silence, transported from the ancient past and into a distant future, all dictated by the pain of love and loss. I watched as Jacob chewed, his jaw moving unconsciously and creating sympathetic movements in his neck and shoulders. I watched his hands fiddle with the hole at the knee of his jeans like a child.

After my third piece of pizza and second beer, I lay back on the couch, using the cushioned armrest as a pillow. Jake sat in front of me, dutifully staying on the floor. As we watched, the pain of losing something you'd come to depend on as your definition washed through me. I felt my tears sting as the ancient tree slowly died, giving her life, her soul, just so her love could continue on.

Without thinking, I reached out and placed my hand on Jacob's shoulder, causing his body to tense under my touch and then relax into the contact. Right now, I needed the warmth and comfort I knew just being near him could offer me. I'd made other friends in my short time here, but no one made me laugh or soothed me the way he did.

He continued muttering at the screen, whatever he was saying to himself vibrating through his body and up my arm, soft and sensual as a purr. I ran my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp and upper neck as I did, which elicited another soft purr. Sitting in the dark, crying over the mortality of love and the inevitability of loss, I allowed my instincts to carry my body toward Jacob's.

I rolled forward toward him and placed a soft kiss on the side of his neck, now hearing as well as feeling his vibrating purr of encouragement. I kissed him again, lower, next to the collar line of his shirt, and wrapped my arm around in front of him, placing it over his heart. His chest was hard, and I could feel the slope of his pectoral muscles under his shirt; despite his strength, he held still, captive to my touch.

I pulled his ear into my mouth and suckled it, nibbling softly as I let my tongue swirl around the sensitive skin. He shuddered and brought a hand up to mine, holding me close to his heart. In the background, the music swelled as the astronaut approached his final destination at the Xibalba Nebula, and Jacob moaned as I licked the side of his neck slowly.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered without moving, giving me permission to deny him.

"Yes," I said into his skin, the tears still wet on my face but no longer falling.

He turned slowly, coming up on his knees, but I never removed my hands from his body. I rolled onto my back as he leaned down to me and placed his lips against my throat. He moaned softly into me as he brought one hand across my middle, placing it just under my left breast as his thumb swept back and forth against the fabric of my shirt.

He kissed his way up my neck until he came to my lips. I arched up to him, wrapping one hand in his hair and resting the other on his shoulder blade; his back muscles flexed to hold him off of me. He looked at me for an impossible amount of time until I whimpered and lifted myself to meet him, pulling his face against mine as I sucked his lower lip into my mouth.

"Bella…" he breathed before opening his mouth and running his tongue along my lip, slipping it inside of my mouth as I surrendered to him. I held him tighter, but he remained distant, not allowing himself to relax into my kiss. Sitting up slightly, I stroked his face and opened my eyes, kissing him softly and letting my tongue spell out all of what my heart wasn't able to feel.

"So…did this become a date?" he asked as he looked at me between kisses.

"No…" I looked away from him, feeling the couch falling away underneath me.

"Hmmm," he said before kissing me again with more pressure. His hand slid up over my breast firmly, making me moan with the pleasure of his touch and press further into him with my chest and tongue. His thumb brushed roughly against my hard nipple as he added, "That's too bad." He pulled away and smirked down at me.

"What are you-?"

"Oh, Miss Swan, what kind of guy do you think I am? I don't kiss people who won't date me… at least, not tonight." He winked, standing before me.

I could see that his body didn't agree with his decision thanks to the erection right at eyelevel; a primal part of me wanted to reach out and grab it to pull him down again. But I didn't. Jacob walked off - I assume to the bathroom - as The Conquistador collapsed in pain, leaves and flowers bursting from his body, burying him.

The credits began to roll as Jake came back in the room and stood next to the TV, eyeing me standing by the couch, caught between staying and going.

"So, Zombies?"

"You really know how to woo a girl, don't you?" I teased.

"I do my best." He smiled, his face lit up softly in the glow of the TV, which highlighted the contrasts of his sharp features.

"Zombies," I agreed with a smile, knowing this was going to end badly but somehow unable to pull myself away. "Another?" I picked up the empty beer bottles on the table.

"Sure, sure." He was focusing on the electronic equipment in front of him.

_Shawn of the Dead_ proved to be as highly entertaining as I remembered, but as the night wore on, I got tired, closing my eyes from time to time but laughing as I listened to the familiarly ridiculous lines. Eventually, I yawned and started to sit up to leave. "It's too late… I have to get home."

"You're drunk and exhausted; sleep here," Jake said over his shoulder from his position on the floor.

"Jacob…"

"Not like that; I told you already: I'm a gentleman… you can sleep on the couch."

"Okay…" I yawned as I rolled onto my side, snuggling further into the couch cushions.

When I woke up, it was still dark in the little house, and I could smell the dampness of morning dew. I lay on the small couch wondering when Jacob had covered me up and when he'd left for bed. The down comforter was warm and smelled like mothballs and summer heat. From the kitchen, another more comforting smell wafted over.

Coffee.

I got up and stumbled down the hall to the small bathroom before going into the kitchen to find the coffee maker brewing and a Post-it note sticking to the front:

_Mug in cabinet_

_Boy in garage_

_Come find me_

I smiled at his chicken-scratch handwriting - boy indeed - before reaching above me to find a mug. I poured myself a cup and headed out the back door and over to the garage. The sky was cloudy, and I realized that it wasn't so much dark out as it was blacked out; the sky was hidden behind a cover of clouds threatening to open before I made it to my destination.

I reached the garage just in time to hear the first crack of thunder and feel the swell of air pressure before the fall. Behind me, the first drops rushed to the ground like a lover finally come home. I huddled around my mug and leaned on the wall just inside the door, taking in the sight before me.

This morning there was no music on in the garage, and Jacob was standing with his back to me, appraising his work. It was clear he'd been sanding; the air was full of dust, as if a fairy had passed through with a leak in her bag of pixie dust, leaving a trail behind her. He stood there with dust falling on his bare shoulders, his hand on his hip. Jacob was barefoot, wearing only a pair of cut off jeans and a layer of wood dust highlighting the concave/convex flow of his physique.

Taking a sip of my coffee, I allowed the sight before me to worm its way into my heart. One thing I had learned; no matter how hard you might fight against it, love has a way of making itself known. Sometimes it was a slow growing vine taking over an old house, but other times, like now, it was a silent moment of voyeurism, so subtle you didn't even realize it had happened until it broke you in two.

"Did you know you're sort of beautiful?" I asked softly, causing Jake to turn to me and give me a view even better than the last.

Jacob just rolled his eyes. "You drank more than you should have, didn't you?"

"Hmmm," I said, walking further into the room. "So what are you working on today?"

"Just a little polishing. I noticed some spots where the grain was raising yesterday, and I wanted to get the finer sandpaper going." He turned his full attention back to his art, giving me the opportunity to appraise the muscles in his back and note that his underwear rode up slightly higher than the shorts… briefs or boxer briefs? Whatever they were, they hugged his ass tightly.

"…fingers are the hardest part, but I'm not going to work on that today. I'm feeling her shape more than the details right now."

"Hmmm…" I hummed, letting the low timbre of his voice wash over me and melt against the thump thump thump of the rain.

"How about you?" He cocked his head to one side. "Any life-altering plans for this rainy Saturday?"

"I don't think you have to add the rainy part – isn't that every day?"

"Point made."

"I was hoping to see if there were any yard sales, but now…"

"You should go to the swap meet."

"Huh?"

"Big indoor flee market-type thing; happens every month out on 101 – it's like halfway to Port Angeles."

"Oh, wow, that sounds perfect!"

"If you wanted to… I mean… I'll be done here in an hour or two… we could…"

"Yeah, I'm gonna run home and shower and stuff, but I'd like that."

"Okay." He smiled at me, and that flicker of hope returned to his eyes, but this time, I did nothing to stop it.

"I'll come back and get you?"

"Wear something slutty," he said before turning back to his work, and for the first time in my new friendship with Jacob Black, I laughed but didn't protest. I let the joke hang in the air; the innocent jab at the armor I was wearing struck true.

The drive home was smooth until I neared our road and spilled the last of my coffee all over myself after bumping into a pot hole. I parked on the far side of the detached garage so Rosalie could still get her car out and noticed that Emmett's Jeep wasn't here again.

"Morning!" I called as I walked in and was quickly assaulted by a hysterical three-year old.

"Miss Bella!" he screamed, launching himself into my arms. "You didn't say good night, and you weren't here, and I thought you'd been taken or stolen or all gone!"

"Shhh, its okay, Royce. You're all right. I'm right here, buddy." I quickly picked him up, making sure he knew that I was real.

"He's been like this all morning," Rosalie said from the doorway to the kitchen, tired circles under her eyes.

"What's going on?"

"This is Roy's weekend with me; his dad gets him Wednesday through Sunday this week, so they get a longer visit, but… I don't know… he's just so upset."

"My daddy didn't come, and he didn't call or say goodbye, and then you weren't here, and, Miss Bella, what if there were monsters out there, and you were out there, and I heard a boom last night, and the boom sound was scary, and it was a monster trying to get in your room, and my daddy isn't here!" the boy sobbed in my arms.

Rocking Royce in my arms, I looked at Rosalie and saw a pain deeper than any I'd felt; my heart may have been broken, ripped in two, never to be returned to its original state, but it was only _my_ heart. Rosalie's heart was breaking for someone else; her pain was the pain of wishing she could break her own heart just so that his could remain whole.

"Can you call him?" I asked, knowing that it wasn't what she wanted to do but feeling the pain of the boy seeping into me as his tears soaked my coffee-stained shirt.

"Okay…" she sighed, going to get her phone.

"Come on, Royce, let's sit on the couch." I carried him further into the living room and settled him down on my lap, brushing his hair away from his sweet face. His eyes were red and puffy from crying. "Shhh, Royce, there're enough years yet to cry. You're okay. Shhhh..."

"Hi, um, call me when you get this, okay?" Rosalie spoke into the phone, leaving a message.

"He's not home." She quickly dialed another number.

"Hi, yes, it's Rosalie. Is your son there? Do you know where? I know, but he'll never hear the phone over the noise in that garage…okay, if you would…Thanks…" She sat down on the floor next to her son's head. "All right, Roy, Papa's going to go out to Daddy's garage and see if he's in there, okay?"

But Royce ignored her, his eyes closing as I stroked his face; I traced the lines of his eyebrows and down his sweet cheeks to his chin, lulling him to sleep with the promise of understanding.

"Thank God you're here…" She looked up at me from her perch on the floor.

I stroked his face, feeling the softness of skin that hadn't yet been marred by the sun. He sniffled and hiccupped as I murmured to him and cradled him closely. His feathery breaths came easier now as he sunk into sleep.

Royce slept in my lap for the next hour as Rose and I drank the coffee she brewed from my detailed explanation. The rain was soft against the house, and the air was fresh. Our silence held hands with our friendship, smiling down at the sleeping child in my arms until the phone rang.

"Hi," she whispered, answering quickly so as not to wake Royce.

"I know; he…he misses you. No, I don't mind… okay, yeah, I'll bring him there. Its okay, look, I'm glad you're free … okay… I'll be there soon."

Rosalie's face was indecipherable as she hung up the phone with the man she wished out of her life but would hold on to forever for the sake of her son.

"I'm going to pack a bag for him quickly, just in case he spends the night… are you … okay here with him?"

"Of course, Rose, go ahead; we're fine." I smoothed down his brown hair and dried the leftover tears on his face as she quickly went into the back rooms to throw on a pair of jeans and pack an overnight bag for her son.

When she was ready, I carried him out to her VW Beetle and strapped him into the car seat that he was rapidly outgrowing.

"Royce," I said into his hair. "Honey, you're going to your dad's now. Okay?"

He smiled, eyes closed, lost in his dream world as I shut the door.

"Thanks, Bella, I'll be back soon."

"Okay, I'm going to shower and then check out the swap meet."

"Oh, have fun, but try and come home tonight." She winked before climbing in and driving off in her Bug, leaving a trail of the scent of diesel in her wake.

The shower I took that morning was truly the most glorious shower in all of history. I was tired and a little hung over, sad and happy, excited and terrified, hopeful and cautious, remembering but beginning to forget. The green tile of the shower walls and pink flower appliqués on the tub floor witnessed my duality as it washed down the drain, leaving behind only Bella.

I hurried now, knowing that Jacob would be expecting me soon; the time I'd spent holding Royce was well spent but not something I had budgeted for. I pulled on a low-cut t-shirt and a pair of jeans before sweeping my still-wet hair up into a haphazard bun, clipped into place with a barrette.

I grabbed my messenger-bag-style purse and the envelope of cash I'd taken out before moving here, earmarked for just this kind of adventure before rushing out and jumping into my truck. I was more excited than I'd wanted to be to return to Jacob. He pushed the boundaries but never too far, always keeping it light, letting things happen at their own pace and never pressuring me for more than I was able to give. Despite him making it clear that he was interested in more from me, I never felt rushed.

Pulling into his drive had become so comfortable that I didn't notice at first that his Rabbit was missing.

"Jake!" I called, bounding up the steps to the red house I'd left only hours earlier.

"He ain't here!" I heard a voice call out as I opened the door; Billy Black rolled into the living room from the kitchen with an inscrutable look on his face.

"Oh, ahh, will he be back soon?"

"Don't 'spect so."

"Oh…okay…" I wasn't sure how to interpret what seemed like anger flowing from the man across from me. The last time I'd seen him he'd been so open and kind; what had happened since then?

"Umm… can you just let him know… I, ah… I came by?"

"Will do; now get along." A tight smile accompanied the not-so-subtle dismissal.

I walked out of the house and back toward my car, unable to process the conversation I'd just had. Where was Jake? He'd made it clear that he wanted to spend time with me… Instead of going to the truck, I walked to his garage, where the music was still playing. Something lyrical I didn't recognize was on, and as I looked around, I could see his sandpaper and tools scattered on the floor before the sculpture as if they'd been discarded; forgotten in his hurry to get to whatever called him away from me.

There are moments in life that, when you look back at them, you realize you should've known; you should've been able to sense there was a piece of the puzzle missing, but at the time, the puzzle was still lying all around you while you tried to pick out and sort the pieces by color or edging, unable to realize it would never be complete without the one that had slipped out of the box.

I scribbled a note and left it on his workbench, trying to leave it as casual as possible; who knew when I'd see him again? Besides, I had a swap meet to get to.

The drive out to Route 101 was easy enough: down 110 until it ended, and I could get on 101 toward Port Angeles until I saw a large barn on the side of the road with a wooden sign with "SWAP MEET" scrawled in paint. I parked along with the other vehicles there - some newer, their owners looking for that special find that you can only get from dumpster dives like this, and others more like mine, hoping to find something that they could afford.

Inside was dense with noise, dust and people, and I could feel myself getting overwhelmed already. But I'd come all the way here, so I'd take some deep breaths and walk outside if I needed a break. I was going to spend at least an hour looking; enough time to know if it was worth continuing.

Fifty-five minutes into my exploration, and I'd found a beautiful glass doorknob for the entrance door to my rooms; necessary, no, but for .35 cents, I could afford to splurge. I found an old, red velvet love seat for $10 next, which fit in the back of my truck perfectly with the help of the former owner to situate it safely.

Three hours later, the truck was packed full, and I was exhausted but happy with my haul: a cherry wood bookshelf, some hand-carved picture frames, a black rug, a bedside table, a stained glass window to hang in my classroom, and even a new pair of earrings, amongst other things. My joy was simple, and the items I'd purchased were small and insignificant compared to a world full of luxuries and technology, but something about each of them called to me, and I knew they were meant to be mine.

I drove home with the driver's window up, tasting the soon-to-be returning rain with a heaviness in my heart I couldn't pinpoint and couldn't avoid. Where was Jacob Black?


	5. Chapter 5

"Babe, come on, I'm sorry," Emmett whined from inside the house. Great, they were fighting, but at least he would be here to help me unload the car. I thought about calling Jake for the shortest of moments but didn't want to interrupt whatever had come up today. I mean, it's not like he was my boyfriend…

"Look there was a fire. Like a real bona fide, house a-blaze fire. I can't really answer my phone when that's happening."

"A fire?" I asked, bringing in an armload of treasures.

"Hey, Bella! Yeah, the vocational school's cosmetology class was having some kind of test today, and one of the students left a chemical peel starter next to the bleach, and they had a fire catch, and everything in there is plastic, so it just went up like crazy."

Rosalie came into the living room then. "Oh my God!"

I put down my stuff at the bottom of the stairs. "Was everyone OK?"

"Yeah, no one got hurt, but we couldn't put it out with water, so it took forever to get under control."

"I hate that you've started doing this."

"Rose…"

"I know, you love it and your Dad was a volunteer fireman and all your buddies are down at the station and lalalala, but I hate it; I hate not being able to find you and wondering if you're OK."

"I know, Babe."

"Well, as long as everyone's ok, do you think I could get some help getting stuff out of the car?"

"Super Emmett to the rescue once again," he said, jumping up and following me outside.

"Listen, Bella, since Rose isn't listening, I meant to tell you Jake Black has been asking me for your number."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I...ah... haven't given it to him, didn't know if you wanted to see him again or what, but he's asked a couple of times now…"

"Well, let's let him work a little harder for it then."

"You crack me up, Bella. Just when I think you're a sweet girl, it turns out you're just a big tease!"

"I am not a tease; I'm just…not sure where this is going."

"OK, whatever, just maybe don't tell Rose about him until you are sure what's going on…it might not be pretty."

"She really doesn't like those Rez boys, does she…"

"Well…that's part of it…but it gets a little more complicated than that with Jake." Emmett had pulled the end of the loveseat out of the truck bed, and I was taking over where he was holding so he could lift the other end and help me haul it up to the sitting room upstairs.

"How so?" I asked.

"Come on," he said, shutting the conversations down completely. "Let's just get this shit upstairs before the rain starts, ok?"

Dinner that night was quiet, Rosalie kept her phone near her at all times, nervous to hear from her ex but not wanting to be that helicopter mom that can't accept that her children have lives that don't involve her. When the phone finally rang she answered it hurriedly, accepting the news that Royce wouldn't be returning that night but in the morning gracefully, despite her obvious disappointment.

That night I arranged my new furniture, shaping my bedroom and sitting room into a place where I could spread out and figure out who I was. I placed my books, including my new treasured purchases from Books and Buns, on the bookshelf in my sitting room. This was the first time I had a space of my own where I could display the items most precious to me. Along with my books, I placed the photograph of my father into one of the frames I had bought at the swap meet and made sure it had a place of honor.

The black rug complimented my red loveseat perfectly, and with a bedside table and desk to work at, I finally started to feel moved in. After every other box was packed and every new item found a home, I was faced with the last one. Under the piles of my possessions, I had hidden away everything I had of him.

Whether it was a form of self-punishment or a way of starting to say goodbye I'm not sure, but I opened the box that had remained sealed since I packed it up, the day after he left. Sitting on my new rug in my new home leaning against my new couch I reopened a wound that had scabbed over, an untended infection underneath. Could one die from a love gone septic? Would it be a death of the body or soul?

The day I met Edward had been up until then the worst day of my life. I know now how much worse things can get, but at the time, having someone I didn't know, had just met even, look at me with such hatred seemed like the end of the world. He went out of his way to avoid me, and I hate to admit it but the seeds of obsession were born in me.

Edward Masen was beautiful. He had the most gorgeous green eyes I had ever seen, and they always seemed to see through whatever it was that I said, down to the essence of who I was. When he told me I was beautiful, I believed him, feeling it to be true, only if he saw me that way. So when he told me I wasn't good enough for him, I believed that, too. I never had been; it only made sense that now he could finally see what the rest of us already knew.

I slowly pulled out his letters to me and the composition he had written: "Cara Bella." I put the CD into my stereo and listened to the notes begin slowly, reverberating through the low quality recording he had made for my birthday. If I strained, I could hear him humming along, adding another layer of complexity to the harmony.

Two weeks after I first encountered Edward, he finally deigned to speak to me. He sat behind me in English 101, making every class feel like a performance. Fortunately for me, I had read all of these books and was only there to fulfill the requirement so that I could move up to more interesting and specialized seminars. I would sit in class, feeling him behind me. Imagining what he was thinking or seeing as eyes that were probably trained on anything but me burned into my back.

"Hello, Bella," he said after class, his smooth voice making my skin tingle.

"Edward…"

"I just wanted to tell you, I enjoyed your poetry at last week's Fire & Water open house."

"Oh, ah thanks…I didn't know you were there…"

The piece I had read that night had been something new I was working on, unfinished and immature. Too wordy with time spent on descriptions instead of emotions. I still struggled with the adage of "show don't tell" in my writing, but it was coming along. And over the next four years, I had found confidence in my writing and had a number of pieces published.

The box on the floor in front of me brought an onslaught of memories, most of them had been happy when I had bundled them up and placed them here, but now they were discolored with the pigment of pain.

A note left on my desk the morning after the first time he spent the night in my dorm room, leaving me to wake-up alone. A present, wrapped in tin foil, of a fortune cookie fortune. A saltshaker stolen from the diner on our first actual date.

"You aren't really going to take that, Bella."

"Why not, it's vintage..."

"Have you no sense of decency?" He laughed warmly, a sparkle in his eye. There was something about surprising him, shocking him even, that gave me a perverse pleasure. He was always so sure and confident of his view of the world; forcing him out of that confidence was like a drug to me, and I found myself a junkie for the confusion in his eyes.

Our first summer apart proved more painful than I had expected. Nineteen years old and back in Florida with my mother and her new husband Phil was a definition of hell on earth for me. I passed the days writing to Edward, anticipating every letter he sent back to me. He avoided email, saying that he liked waiting to hear from me; it added an often-lost romance to our separation.

Every letter that came was still in this box, his clear and elegant handwriting, the kind that only artists and old ladies still used, spelling out my name over and over in front of me. One by one I pulled them out of their envelopes and reread them, in whatever order they came. The tears started as I read over the letter telling me that I was his life now, picking up momentum as the letter he wrote me on my 21st birthday declared his desire to marry me.

Four years of letters, pictures, gifts, memorabilia. Four years of devotion and sacrifice. My letter of acceptance to the Stratford-Upon-Avon's master writing program, which I didn't attend so that I could stay near Edward, stuffed inside a book of Rebecca Brown's poetry. I opened it, flipping through, reading the notes I had scribbled inside, smiling at the poetry that had spoken so deeply to me.

_When I said I'd give my right arm for you, I didn't think you'd ask me for it, but you did. You said, Give it to me. And I said OK. I believed you wouldn't have asked me for it unless you really wanted it, and needed it. But then, when you got it, you bronzed it and put it on the mantel over the fireplace in the den._

I had given Edward everything: my virginity, my focus and attention to the exclusion of my friends and school work. My ambition took a back seat to my desperate attempts to remain his focus. Somehow he continued to grow, learning and evolving, while I stagnated.

And I knew he would leave. I knew long before he told me that he was going, and as I watched him pulling away, saw him reaching for things outside of the small world I tried to hold him to. I deceived myself, believing he would never go. He told me I was his existence, I was his soul. He told me that there was nothing that could soothe his heart like my touch. I believed his words as his touches cooled, freezing me into a constant state of terror.

So the day his last letter appeared, left on the coffee table of the apartment we then shared, I wasn't as surprised as you might think I would be. Walking into the apartment the first thing I noticed was the smell, it smelled like dust, as if the windows had been closed for years. I opened the windows, airing out the stifling absence before I noticed the missing books, the empty basket where he had kept his notebooks on the kitchen table.

The missing art on the wall left holes in the home we had begun to build here and my thoughts were stilled, silence filling every cell in my body until I saw it. It sat on the coffee table mocking me, my name artfully calligraphied on the sealed envelope.

My tears began falling as I opened the letter before me, mirroring the actions I had taken only a few months ago, the actions that created a line in my life, a line that designated who I was before and then who I was after. Edward's letter to me was my own Laconian Bar, dividing my identity, separating me into sections.

_Darling Bella,_

_I know that this is a cruel way to leave, but believe me, my love, it was the only way I could do it. If I had to face you, I would lose my resolve, losing myself into your eyes. But I am not ready for that submission. I have no choice, I must go now, find what is out there so that I can become a man who could deserve you._

_I do not know if I will return, I do not know who I will become, nor you, but it is a risk I must take. I am incomplete as a human, my soul having not yet learned to sing. I must leave and I must do so alone. I have come to believe that our relationship is a harmful thing to the art we are both meant to create. In that way, my love, you are not good for me._

_I must disentangle myself from what we have become and find that which is mine alone. You must go on with your life without any more interference from me. It will be as if I'd never existed. Time heals all wounds, my love. It kills me to be the one to injure you, but as I've said, this is the only way for us._

_My love for you will be eternal,  
Edward  
_  
I lost myself then into the rabbit hole of heartbreak.

My tears were raw. I leaned against my new couch in my new life, but my heart was transported to when I had sobbed until my eyes were devoid of moisture. The pain in my chest opened anew, fresh air hitting the stinging wound as if it had never closed.

My existence, my presence was, as I'd known from the moment I first laid eyes on Edward Masen, not enough. I was, in the words he had written me, not good for him. There was no way for me to understand how he had come to that conclusion; all I could do was accept it as fact and try to recover whatever self remained without him. I wrote and cried for the next few months, applying to Teach For America only on the insistence of my advisor, who watched as my work disintegrated and any hope of professional writing straight out of college collapsed.

Months later, I was able to spend time, entire days even, without thinking of him. I was able to laugh with Rosalie and even harbor the beginnings of a crush on Jacob Black. But at the core, I was still broken, still full of the self-doubt that had wormed its way into my essential self. I could never be enough.

My tears flowed easily now, without the hitched sobs from the first time I'd read his letter. My tears were the tears of acceptance, of knowing the truth of the world I lived in. And that truth was that he was gone and was not going to ever return. I accepted it as my skin fell off around me, sloughing off the armor I wore around everyone here in Washington State. I sat bleeding, the wounds now taking their real shape, covering my entire body. Rid of the organ that defended me from the world, the pain seeped out of every exposed nerve ending.

I sat, bleeding on the floor until I was pale and lifeless, exsanguinated.

That night I slept well. I awoke to a living room free of Edward's box, having stuffed it into the back of my one small closet before showering and falling into my futon exhausted.

The morning brought fresh air through the open window that wafted about my room, revitalizing me with its clean touch.

I bounced downstairs, unable to explain my new energy completely, but feeling like I was taking full breaths for the first time in months. The pressure against my chest, bearing down on my shoulders had lifted. It was an uncharacteristically sunny Sunday morning, and I had nothing but hope for the week to come.

I grabbed a bagel, popping it in the toaster oven as I poured a glass of orange juice and began the morning coffee. Rose and Emmett were still asleep, leaving me to enjoy the cool morning alone. Outside the kitchen window I could see the expanse of land that Rosalie had neglected as her life with Royce took precedence. I could see the crumbling garden walls and an overgrown trellis that could be uncovered without much effort. I would have to talk to Rosalie about whether she would let me trim the trees to allow some more sun in, giving us enough light for a proper garden.

I loved the idea of having fresh tomatoes and herbs for Emmett and me to cook with, of sending Royce out back to pull carrots. I'd never been a country girl, but this life inspired me more than I had expected. I could imagine sitting outside in my garden with my sketchbook or notepad. The inspiration of creation was returning with a smile, covering me with a new, soft cover of flesh.

I ate my bagel on the front porch reading the Sunday paper, which somehow had been delivered earlier than I had gotten up. Taking my dishes back to the sink, I poured a cup of newly-percolated, fully-loaded coffee and headed back up to my room.

The morning passed slowly as I day dreamed about the projects that were coming to life in my mind, and as I sipped my coffee I heard the door downstairs open and Royce's giggles.

"Put me down! No! Mommy, help!" he squealed with delight.

"Thank you for bringing him home," Rosalie said as I got up and started downstairs to say hello.

And then I heard it, a voice I had come to crave, now so familiar. "No problem, Rose. I'm happy to drive him back."

No…

I stood up walking slowly to the entrance of my rooms. I had left the door open when coming back up and could hear his voice clearly now. Laughing with the boy, having brought him back this morning to his mother…would that make Roy his son?

He was young, he lived at home… Yesterday when I'd gotten to La Push he was mysteriously missing, his father significantly less than pleased to see me - was it because I'd spent the night? Was it because I was white? Was it because he held out hope that his son's family would be reunited?

But it must be a mistake; I must be mishearing, how could he… It wasn't possible. He wouldn't speak to Rosalie the way I had heard Royce's father speak. He was not that kind of man. But at the core of it, what did I really know about Jacob Black?

I snuck down the rest of the stairwell, my breath catching as I saw the slope of his back, his strong arms holding Royce over his shoulder.

"Where is…?" Rosalie began as Royce called out.

"Miss Bella!"

"No…" I said as he turned to face me, his narrow eyes and beautiful face destroying me as my heart rose and burst.

I turned and ran back upstairs to the safety of my room as the missing puzzle piece dropped into place. Unfortunately my eyes were too filled with tears for me to make sense of the finished picture.


	6. Chapter 6

"Bella! Bella!" he called behind me as I ran up the stairs.

I slammed the door, locking it behind me before slumping to the floor, my head in my hands. How could Royce's father be Jake? How could he be the kind of loser who fought with Rosalie and didn't pay child support? How could he be the kind of guy who would neglect to tell me that he had a _son_?

"Bella."

I could feel him knocking on the door behind my back, jostling my body. "G-go away."

"What's going on? Why did you run back up here?"

"Just go away, Jacob! I have nothing to say to you!"

"Bella!" he said, exasperation apparent in every sound.

"I'd like you to leave," I said softly.

"Not until you tell me why," he demanded from the other side of the door. I leaned my head back against it, hearing him sit down on the top step just outside. "Bella, will you please talk to me?"

We sat in silence, and I felt the words I needed to say, the questions I needed to ask constrict my throat; I could barely breathe, let alone speak.

"Bella, come on, what's going on with you?"

"I… how could you?"

"What? What did I do? Is this about yesterday? I would have called you, but, seeing as how you still won't give me your number…"

"No, no, I won't give you my number!" I was getting mad now. Who the hell was he to give me a hard time?

"Precisely. I would have called you and told you something came up."

"If I wouldn't give it to you before, I most certainly won't give it to you now." I turned, glaring at the closed door.

"And why the hell not, Bella? What's happened that makes it so clear that you can't let me in?"

All I could do was snort in response.

"Look, I'm sorry I couldn't go shopping with you, but I had something come up."

"Yeah, just a little something, huh?"

"Actually, it was a pretty important something, not that you've given me a chance to tell you."

"I think it's pretty clear."

"Do you? Yeah, well, you know what, Bella? I'm done with this. I jump through hoops and run around chasing my tail just to try and get you to spend some time with me, and then you slam the fucking door in my face for absolutely no reason!"

"No reason?" I screamed, standing up and facing off with the door before me. "No reason, huh? You consider that down there _no_ _reason_?"

"I don't even know what you're talking about!" I heard him moving outside the door.

"No idea?"

"None!"

"Are you a moron? Really, are you, like, new?" I yelled, whipping the door open and facing the man in front of me

"Yes, I guess I am," he said, stepping into my rooms slowly, like a predatory cat coming in to finally catch his prey.

"That boy is not 'no reason!'"

"What? What are you talking about?" And if I'd taken the time to see the disorientation on his face, I would have understood that he truly had no idea.

"Fuck you, Jacob."

"No, no, goddammit! You're mad at me for bringing Royce back to his mother?"

"Not for bringing him back, no!"

"Bella," he stalked dangerously close to me now, "I'm trying really hard here." He moved closer and closer, his lips only inches away from mine now. "But you're driving me fucking insane."

"Do not speak to me that way!" I slammed my hands into his chest, shocked at how hard his body was, knowing I wouldn't do any damage but wanting to punch him, kick him for the pain he caused Rosalie and for the sweet boy who was dying a little inside every time he heard his parents fight.

"You know what? Fine, I'm done speaking to you at all!" He stormed out of my room and down the stairs.

"Don't you dare walk out on me without explaining yourself!" I called as I chased him down the stairs.

"Explaining myself?"

"How could you not tell me?"

"Tell you what!"

"About all of this!"

"All of this? About driving Royce home?"

"Yes! No!"

"Then what? What do you want me to tell you about? What is it that I did that's so terrible here?"

"You know what, Jake? I really hate you right now."

"Well, Bella, I've been trying to get you to get in touch with your emotions for a few weeks now, and hate is a passionate emotion, so I'll take it."

"It's hard to imagine that I was actually starting to let myself feel something for you."

"What's that now? You can feel?" he sneered cruelly.

Emmett walked into the living room. "What are you two going on about out here? You're seriously freaking Royce out."

I was ashamed; ashamed to have fallen into the same trap that Rosalie did with him and ashamed that I'd let my own emotions get the better of me. "I'm sorry, Emmett."

"It's okay, but go outside or back upstairs, would you?"

"Not necessary; I'm leaving," Jacob said, storming out the front door.

"What's all that about?" Emmett asked, his arms crossed over his strong chest and his face firm and unmoving.

"It's about that ass-wipe not telling me he has a fucking son," I whispered.

"Bella, that's 'cause he doesn't," Emmett corrected, his face serious and his voice calm. I felt his words reverberate through me, making me dizzy with the attempt to reconfigure my reality so dramatically for the second time in the last hour.

"Oh my God…" I ran out the front door just as Jake's Rabbit ground into the gravel driveway, spitting rocks up as he sped away.

"Emmett," I said weakly as I walked back inside, "what have I done?"

"You seriously thought that Jake was Royce's Dad?"

"The way he was with him this morning, and he was dropping him off, and…Oh, my God, I have to talk to him!"

"He's probably working at the garage after this. He goes there to cool off."

"His woodwork…"

"No. God, Bella, do you know this guy at all?"

"I guess not," I admitted, realizing that I'd spent so much time focusing on me and what I needed that I really hadn't gotten to know Jacob at all. He gave me so much, all the time I needed, so much kindness and friendship, never pushing, never giving up, and what did I do? I jumped to the worst possible conclusion without even giving him a chance to explain.

"Emmett, where is he?"

"Uley Garage down in La Push, off Reservation Road."

"Uley Garage? Sam has a garage?"

"No, it's his dad's. That's where Jake knows Paul. Paul Uley, Sam's little brother, is Royce's father."

"Thank you, Emmett!" I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Thank you."

"Go on now, kitten; go get him," he laughed as I grabbed my keys and slipped on my flip flops, still in my yoga pants and a tank top, but I didn't care. I had to fix this.

The ride to La Push took longer than it ever had before. Every bump in the road made my heart jump higher into my throat. Every turn sent my thoughts into a tailspin. I tried not to speed, but in all honesty, I can't say I was successful. The need to get to Jacob became more important than any concern I might have had for traffic laws.

I forced myself to slow as I turned into La Push; the last thing I needed to do was run over some kid in my rush to get to him. La Push road turned to the left, but I took the right onto Reservation Road, watching the passing houses and businesses. There was more of a little town down here than I'd realized. As I started to see signs for the Resort, there was a small sign stating that Uley Garage was located behind the shopping strip on my right.

I slowed as I drove around back, parking next to the service office.

Leaning my head on the steering wheel, I took a few deep breaths. What was I doing here? What was I going to say? What could I possibly say to explain that it was fear that made me think the worst of him? How could I tell him that it was fear of feeling something for him that drove me without admitting that I did, in fact, feel something for him?

Emmett had been right; I really didn't know anything about this guy, and yet here I was chasing after him. I hopped out of my truck, remembering at the last possible moment that I was in a tank top with no bra, about to walk into a car mechanic's shop. I grabbed the flannel shirt sitting on the passenger's seat and threw it on before walking in, not giving myself the time to think about what I was doing here or what I was going to say.

"Hey there, pretty thing, you lost?" asked the smiling man behind the desk inside the shop. The office was right in the same space as the garage, so as he spoke, I saw another man scoot out from beneath a Honda.

"Nah, Q – she must be here for me," he said, standing up and wiping his hands on the legs of his coveralls. "Ain't that right, baby? You heard about the Uley boys and couldn't stay away?"

"Not so much," I scoffed, taking in the man-boy in front of me. He was a younger, less attractive version of Sam – thin, but his movements were smooth and self-assured. This must be Paul. Looking at him, I could see Royce's chocolate eyes, smiling at me without joy.

"Hmmm…" He looked me over as he came and sat on the desk in front of me. "What is it we can do for you then?" He smiled, seeming unfazed by my rejection.

"Okay, so, is Jacob here?" I asked, looking back at the man he'd called Q.

"Ohhh, are you why he's back there blowing things up?"

"He's what?"

"He stormed in here about twenty minutes ago and went straight to the hot box."

"Okay, well, can I…"

Paul and Q exchanged glances before Paul said, "Whatever, but it's on you if he burns all your hair off."

I followed Q as he led me through the garage and back into the store room. "So, hi, I'm Quil. You're friends with Jake?"

"Yeah, I mean, yes, yes, I am. That is if he'll still talk to me."

"Well, if he's in the hotbox, he's either really inspired or really pissed."

"Great."

"Judging by the fact that you're here, I'm guessing pissed," Quil chuckled kindly. "So just, stay away from the blow torch." Good lord, what was this hotbox? Some kind of S&M fantasy dungeon?

We came to an iron door in the wall, and he pulled it open, ushering me in.

The room was dark, but I could make out metal scraps strewn about the floor. There were shelves stacked with car parts and metal sheets, and on the other side of the room was Jacob, wearing a leather apron and welder's mask, hitting something that was glowing red with a hammer and sending sparks with each strike.

"Jake?" I called, walking up slowly. He was intimidating in this setting. I couldn't see his face, but the muscles in his arms bulged against his long-sleeved shirt, and his focus on what he was doing was intense. The air was hot and dry, and KMFDM blared from the stereo. Despite everything that was going on, the scene in front of me was one that made me extremely turned on.

Jacob was hot, physically and, thanks to the temperature in the room, hot in a sweaty-sexy-man way. He still hadn't seen me and couldn't hear me over the din of the music and the reverberation of metal beating on metal. He had a foot up on a table, holding down one end of a metal rod while he beat on it in the middle, shaping/bending/smoothing it to his will.

Here in the hotbox, Jacob was a god-his body impressive and his leg strong as it absorbed the impact vibrating up the metal rod. I watched for a moment as the metal quickly changed shape, becoming smooth and stretched out into whatever was in Jacob's inner eye.

"Jake…" I began again as I turned off the small CD player on the floor.

He turned to me and pulled the welding visor over his head. He was tall, taller than I usually realized. But then he wasn't usually glaring at me furiously while holding a hammer. I laughed nervously, feeling the excitement and nervous energy in my stomach working its way lower, reawakening a whole other kind of excitement in my core. As he stared at me, his eyes never losing the menacing intensity, the heat in the room was rivaled by the heat building in my cunt.

"What do you want?" he asked, not moving.

"I… Jake, can we just, like, go somewhere and talk?"

"Why? What could you possibly have left to say to me?"

"God, come on, give me a chance," I said, stepping toward him. "I…I was wrong, okay?"

"Really, you can do that?" he growled viciously, throwing the hammer down on the bench and pulling off his leather gloves.

"I'm sorry."

"You know what, Bella? I need a little more than that."

"Look, Jake, you have to understand how it looked okay?"

He raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

This was getting harder by the second. I wanted to turn and run-bolt out of this room. The heat was stifling, and my head was spinning with the effort.

"It's just, when you dropped off Royce, I thought… I mean, why did you have him?"

"I'm obligated to give you some answers now? After whatever your little meltdown this morning was?"

"No, look, I just thought you were…" I took a deep breath and dove in, hoping that the admission would help cool the burning in my mouth. "I thought you were Roy's father."

And much to my surprise Jacob started to laugh. He stepped back from me, and the mirth evaporated from his eyes.

"Me?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, you're Quileute and live with your dad."

"Bella, I don't live with my dad; I take care of my dad. It's really a different thing."

"Yeah, I know, but you weren't there this morning, and Rosalie called to find Roy's dad in the garage and…"

"Bella…" he scolded, shaking his head.

"I know; I'm an idiot." I smiled up at him, closing the distance between us.

"Why didn't you just ask me?"

"I guess, look, when I saw you with him, and I thought… It was like I couldn't breathe." I looked down, afraid of the admission.

"Bella," he said, putting a finger under my chin to tilt my head up to him, "you can ask me anything."

"But, Jake, I couldn't bear the answer…"

"Because you like me?" he asked, tilting his head with a teasing smile in his eyes.

"More than I should…"

Jake's hand was on my cheek then, forcing me to maintain eye contact. I watched as he wet his lips. His eyes flickered to my mouth before he leaned in, softly placing a kiss on my lips. His hand moved into my hair, weaving his fingers into the locks at the back of my head and pulling me closer. His other hand was on the small of my back as he kissed me slowly.

I lifted myself up onto my tiptoes, letting my body lean into him and drag against the leather apron. I placed my hands on the front of his shoulders and surrendered to him. Opening my mouth, I sucked his tongue into it, savoring the taste that drew me up higher, my arms wrapped around his neck. His tongue met mine slowly, caressing me and filling my senses with him. I could taste him, smell him, and feel him.

I let my hands run through his short hair and cling to the back of his neck. His skin was soft, and his tongue-God, his tongue was intoxicating.

"Oh, God…" I moaned as he removed his lips from mine and began kissing my neck, pulling the skin into his mouth with gentle suction as his hand slid down from my back to my ass. He cupped it firmly, gripping me hard and lifting me slightly to pull me into him, bearing the majority of my weight.

"So you like me?" he said into my skin, continuing to kiss my neck.

"Mmm-hmm," I purred, letting my head fall back and giving him full access to me.

"A lot?"

"Mmmmm." I ran one hand down his shoulder, grabbing onto his bicep tightly.

"Enough to let me take you out on a date?" he breathed warmly into my ear, making the desire come rushing out of me warmly.

"Jake…"

"Mmmm…" he hummed, moving his way to the other side of my neck to lick and nip at me with his teeth.

"Stop, okay, wait." I shook my head and pulled away, trying to clear my mind. "I can't think when you do that."

"That's kind of the idea," he pointed out, not releasing his hold but pulling away enough to look at me.

"How about… what if we just went out again? Huh? Let's take some time."

He looked at me and let go of my body; the absence of his hands was palpable.

"Still no, huh?"

"No, I mean, it's not no, okay? I just… clearly, I don't know you as well as I think I do… as well as I want to…"

"Okay." He leaned down to kiss me again, keeping the passion in check but placing a hand on my waist. "Tonight then; let me take you out tonight."

I took a big breath, steadying myself under his gaze. "Okay, tonight, you and me."

"Not dating," he chuckled, making me smile.

"Jake, I really am sorry; I guess I'm just used to thinking the worst of people."

"I accept your apology. Now, go on, get out of here; I have some things to finish before tonight."

"What're you doing in here?"

"Just another sculpture…"

"That requires a blowtorch?"

"Hey, no one said art was all watercolors and flower arranging."

"I guess not… Okay, um, pick me up?"

"Yeah, 6:00 pm," he agreed, pulling the visor back over his face.

I took one final look at him, smiling as he leaned over to pick up the blowtorch and unintentionally giving me a perfect view of his ass. Damn, what was I getting myself into?


	7. Chapter 7

"Soup?" I asked, truly surprised.

"Yes, soup."

"Really?"

"Yes! What's wrong with soup?"

"Nothing. I guess it's just not really, like, out-to-dinner/restaurant standard."

"So? It's not like this is a date. I like soup; it's comforting." He looked over at me in the passenger's side of his rabbit as we entered downtown Forks.

"Okay, so this is some soup-only café?"

"They have bread, too."

"Oh, good" I laughed.

"Come on, don't you like soup?"

"Sure! In November… did you notice it's September?"

"Soup is good year-round. Really, if you were stranded on a dessert island and could pick one kind of food, wouldn't you want soup?"

"No, I really don't think I would." I laughed.

"Really? Because one soup can have meat and veggies and all kinds of tasty treats in it, much more nutritious a choice than pizza or spaghetti."

"Well, yes, when you put it that way."

"And at the end of the day, is there any smell better than soup?"

"Depends on the soup."

"Okay, how about split pea soup?"

"That does have a good smell," I admitted, "but somehow the taste doesn't live up to its olfactory expectations."

"True, true. What if it smelled like split pea soup but tasted like something else?" he asked, smiling broadly now and truly enjoying the banter, and, I had to admit, so was I. Being with Jacob was so easy; it was like he had some kind of relaxation pheromone he put out.

"Like clam chowder; I love clam chowder."

"Aaagg, that's awful!"

"Why? I grew up in Massachusetts; we like clam chowder there."

"Okay, I'll give you clam chowder, but the juxtaposition of split pea smell and clam chowder taste might be too much for my brain to process."

"Fair enough," I allowed, glancing over at him. His face was handsome, with a strong jaw-line and high cheeks. I tried to ration the time I spent studying his face, his shoulders, and his large, warm hands. It was like tasting water instead of gulping it down; still refreshing but never quite enough.

"Okay," he agreed, pulling into a parking spot. I hopped out to meet him and walk into the small-but-cute café he'd chosen. The walls were a warm ochre color, and everything else was either red, black or white, with interesting accents wherever you looked. We sat down at a table with menus and considered our options. I played it safe with a chicken and dumpling soup while Jake chose the Moroccan Cauliflower.

"Jakey!" I heard someone call out from behind me. As I turned, I saw a blur come rushing over to our table and Jake standing up to hug her.

"Hey, Pixie-Stick!" he said to the small woman clinging to him with her arms around his neck.

"Where have you been?" she asked, pouting and stomping her foot, which made her spikey black hair bounce.

"What? You're the one with the all-consuming relationship." He smiled at her. "Hey, this is Bella; Bella, this is Alice."

"Oh, Bella! Wow, it's so great to meet you! You're living with Rose, right?"

"Yeah, I, ah, just moved in about a month ago."

The small, energetic woman sat down at our table. "That's great; she needs someone there to help with that big, old house. So you move in with Rose, and now you're dating the best looking guy in La Push? Nice going, Bella; you have good taste." She smiled at me broadly.

"No, I mean, Jake's not…"

"Yeah, Alice, we're not dating; Bella's my beautiful, sexy, extremely desirable, but no-really-she's-only-a-friend friend," Jake teased winking at me.

"Oh? Why not?"

"Oh, I, ah…."

"Alice, remember what I told you about asking people inappropriately intimate questions?"

"Yeah… sorry," she giggled, "But you take care of my Jake, okay? He's a big puppy dog of sweetness, and I don't want to see him get hurt." Alice gave her best attempt at giving me the stink eye, which was down right hysterical on her happy face.

"Okay, I'll try," I laughed as she stood back up and took out her little notepad.

"Oh, Bella, I can already tell we're going to be great friends. But I should probably do my job or something. What do you want?"

After we ordered, Alice skipped away, leaving an almost visible trail of joy behind her. "She's great! How do you know her?" I asked a smiling Jacob.

"Oh, Alice, she's Emmett's little sister."

"And? She seemed to know you better than that."

"Yeah, well, we tried dating a little in high school, but it didn't go so well; she's… a little much," he laughed.

"Oh." I looked down at my hands, feeling an unwanted blush settling in.

"Miss Bella, are you by chance jealous?"

"No, of course not." I looked back up at him.

Jacob just rolled his eyes. "Of course not."

"And how do you know Emmett?"

"We grew up doing the same sports; he's older than me but was always really nice, and I was always bigger than the other kids, so I played in his league a lot. There aren't a lot of teams on the Rez, so we'd come out here to Forks for soccer and football and stuff."

"So you were a jock."

"Amongst other things." He cracked that wicked, knowing smile that made my insides turn to mush, and my brain stopped working.

"So why'd you join the Air Force?"

"Are you kidding? To get the fuck out of here!" he said, smiling, but a little more truth than he'd intended rang through.

"Why? You seem to love it here, and you know everyone, and everyone seems to like you."

"Not everyone." He shook his head.

"What's that mean?"

"So, what is this, a non-date or an interrogation?"

"Oh, I'm sorry; I was just…curious… I don't really know much about you and…"

"It's okay, Bella. Like I said, you can ask me anything. That was just a lot all at once."

"Sorry."

"Do I get to ask you anything?"

"Sure. I'll, ah…I'll do my best, okay?"

"Why did you move here?"

"To teach; I signed up for Teach for America, and this is where they sent me."

"Must be a big change from Arizona."

"Yeah, I like it, but it's a little wet."

"Nah, nothing like the fragrant taste of rain."

"That was beautiful."

"What?"

"The way you put that: fragrant taste of rain… That's really poetic." I looked at him deeper; there was so much more to him - a jock sculptor who thought in poems, what a rare man.

"Oh, well, thanks," he said, smiling with shyness now. With the focus changed to him, he became uncomfortable, the way he had with his woodwork.

"You get self-conscious about your art, don't you?"

"Yeah." He reached his arm up and grabbed the back of his neck, something I was coming to learn meant he was uncomfortable. "It's something I've always been teased about on the Rez."

"The guys at the shop didn't seem to think it's strange."

"Oh, that's 'cause it's Paul's shop! They know better then to piss him off."

"You two tight?"

"After my mom died, my dad was kind of a mess, and my sisters… well, they just didn't really care about what happened to me, so I spent a lot of time at Paul's."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry. How old were you?"

"Eight." He held my gaze, a moment of silent communion passing between us. "Well, Paul's parents pretty much raised me. I mean, my dad's a good guy, and I love him, obviously, otherwise I wouldn't be here, right?"

"Yeah," I smiled at him, seeing for the first time what he'd given up to be here; taking care of his dad was not the life he'd planned on.

"Paul and I grew up together, so, you know, he's like my brother; Sam, too, although he's a lot older. I spent most weekends there, and his mom was the only one who ever made sure I did my homework, and his dad went with me when I enlisted in the Air Force. Hell, his mom sent me cookies during basic training."

"That's so great, you know, that you had them."

"Yeah, I guess that's kind of why I help out with Royce when I can."

"Paul is Royce's dad, right?"

"Yeah…"

"But he and Rose don't get along."

"Look, Bella, I don't think Rosalie would like me talking about this."

"Why? Rose seemed to like you well enough."

"Well enough, sure, because she knows I care about Royce, but she and Paul… it was ugly, and she was a real cunt about the whole thing, so when I helped Paul out, it's made things tense."

"Why?"

"Cause… All right, look, I'm the one who talked Paul into taking Rose to court when she wouldn't let him see Royce. It was killing Paul, and when I lent him the money to get a real lawyer from Port Angeles, since she works for the only one here in Forks, I was firmly placed on Rosalie's shit list."

"Shit."

"Yeah… and now, she doesn't just have to deal with folks from Forks looking at her like a leper, she has to deal with the Quileutes, too."

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked, not wanting the answer to be what it seemed.

"You don't know this because you aren't from here, but people in Forks and people from the Rez just don't date. It's fine to be friends, and it's okay to be at the same event or even sometimes the same school or job, but getting involved more than that isn't a good thing, especially if there are kids."

"That's just awful." It was hard to believe people thought that way.

Alice walked up with our soup, which smelled amazing, and a basket of fancy rolls. "You guys got awful serious while I was gone. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, Alice, just filling Bella in on the scandal of Forks."

"Ohhh, Royce." She leaned against the chair she'd so recently occupied.

"I don't get it," I admitted, looking at them, "What's the big deal? People have babies without being married all the time."

"That's not it; it's that he's half Quileute."

"So? He's beautiful."

Alice and Jake looked at each other, clearly exacerbated by me. Alice spoke up first. "But in Forks, he's not 'one of us,'" she said with air quotes, rolling her eyes.

"On the Rez, he's a half-breed; it would be all right if he lived on the Rez and learned Quileute, but Paul didn't want to force Rose to do that. It would've made things so much worse."

"He could have done that?" I asked. I didn't think fathers could do that; didn't kids usually stay with the mother?

"Since he's Native, he could have; there are all kinds of laws about that kind of thing." Jake looked uncomfortable now.

"I really had no idea; Rose doesn't talk about any of that."

"I'm sure she doesn't," Jake said, just a little bit of a sneer coming through that made Alice slap him on the back of the head.

"Be a gentleman."

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled up at her.

"Okay, you guys, eat up; I'll bring you some more water." Alice made her exit gracefully.

"Sorry, I'm not trying to be nosy."

"No, it's okay. You probably should know all this before considering getting involved with me; although I don't want to give you more ammunition to say no."

"Who said I'm considering it?"

"Bella, if you don't stop teasing me, I'm going to die of frustration." He laughed, looking straight at me with seriousness in his eyes.

"Why do you want to date me, Jake? I'm really not that great; kind of a disaster, actually."

"Well, sometimes you're a little strange, Bella. Do you know that?"

"And you like that?"

"Yeah, I guess I do." He laughed. "I mean, you aren't like the people here; you don't have all this baggage. You're your own person, and you have your own thoughts, and you don't make me feel so… different."

"Trust me; I have baggage - matching garment bag and everything."

"Sure, sure, but at least it's not the shit people have around here. Plus, you're funny and smart, and, I don't know, I feel like when I look at you, I can see what life should be like… and it should have you in it."

Jacob shook his head. "That was really fucking corny, wasn't it?"

"It really was." I smiled. "But I kind of understand." I blushed to admit it but couldn't help remembering the vision I'd had of a life with Jacob. We ate our soup in general silence, laughing and chatting minimally as we went. As Alice came back with our check, Jacob paid despite my protestations.

"You up for walking around?" he asked as we stepped out into the dark Forks street.

"You're just hoping it'll rain again, so you can cop a feel."

"Maybe." He looked at me sideways before taking my hand and walking farther into town square. My hand in Jake's felt right; even though he was so much bigger than me, I fit with him. Our hands worked together, and I liked the feeling of his warm hand. It was safe and comfortable, but when I looked at him and felt his skin, it also sent a cord of nervous electricity right through me.

We walked past Books and Buns and up to town center, where Newton's Sporting Goods, the pharmacy, and the little movie theater were. There was another coffee shop and a few little boutique places; not much, but enough to enjoy looking in windows.

"_Shadow of a Vampire_'s playing next week; we should go." Jake turned to me, excited. "It's Willem Dafoe and totally awful but funny and fun. Have you seen it?"

"You're really cute, you know that?"

"Aww, you're just sayin' that," he joked, smiling at me, now with his hand on my hip. _Don't kiss him, Bella. This isn't a date; don't let him think…_ and just as I was closing my eyes, hoping for that kiss despite my inner monologue, he pulled away.

"Bella, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"No, really, I don't want you to freak out and disappear, okay?"

"Jake…"

"Promise."

"Okay, what?"

"Why don't you date?"

I paused, unsure of what answer to give. Because I was afraid? Because I still hoped that someday he'd return, and I couldn't let go of that possibility? So I answered with the only thing that could possibly explain it all.

"Jake, have you ever been in love?"

"No, have you?"

I nodded. "Once… Can you understand?"

"Are we answering questions with questions now?" he asked, chuckling softly and keeping things from getting too difficult; knowing just how far to push me. He took my hand and started walking again.

"Did you know that the red grape has the same number of chromosomes as a human being?" I replied, letting the game become the conversation.

"Did you know that the unit of measurement used to calculate solar flairs is called the WOLF?" he said, lifting my hand above my head in a twirl.

"Did you know that the platypus is neither mammal, bird nor reptile?" I asked, sure he couldn't top that one.

"Did you know I have a tail?"

"Really?" I said, stopping to look at him.

"No."

"Jake, how long are you going to keep trying?"

"Oh, are you returning to the topic at hand?"

"For the moment."

"Well, I guess as long as you like me around, and you think I'm good-looking – sort of. I'm prepared to be annoyingly persistent."

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Yeah, okay."

We made our way back to the car, and when we got there, Jacob opened my door for me, smiling his big goofy smile. I climbed in and sat back in the seat, more tired than I'd thought I was.

"So, home?" he asked as he started up the car.

"Yeah, I have class tomorrow."

"Right. How's it going? Seth behaving?"

"Yeah, Seth's a good kid, quiet, but his writing has a lot of potential, and he's smart."

"You like it there, don't you?"

"You know, I really do. I wasn't expecting to this much, but the kids are great. I'm getting the hang of it, so it's not so all-consuming in the evenings. I even have this one girl who's really amazing; she needs some shaping, but her work could be top notch."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's cool to see it in its beginning stages." I turned toward him, excited about my work; no one else had really asked me about it, and my brief conversations with my mom oozed of disappointment in my decision to come here, so I never let myself talk too much.

"Who is it?"

"Claire Young."

"Oh, yeah, Claire."

"She's really talented."

"Good. It's great that she has you then; someone to help her find her footing."

"Yeah."

"So you're happy?"

"Yeah, I am; I'm really happy." I realized as the words came out that they were true.

"Good." He beamed at me. I smiled up at him, taking in the warmth of his smiles. Maybe being with Jacob wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe he was exactly what I needed to heal, to close up the gaping hole in my soul.

"What are you up to tomorrow?" I asked. While I knew more about Jake, and I felt like I knew who he was, I didn't know how he spent his days or what he did. It was like I could see through to him, understand him without knowing him. It was an intimacy that scared me, and I could see how easy it would be to just let go into that.

"Oh, I'm at the Station in the morning and then teaching a class in the afternoon."

"The Fire Station? Are you a Fireman, too!"

"No, no, not me. I do all the work on the trucks and maintain the hoses and everything. Em got me involved over there, and now they come out to La Push when we have an emergency. Used to be, we didn't have a fire department on the Rez, and technically, Forks FD didn't have to respond if something happened. Em and I are changing that though."

"You complain about it here, but you really love it, don't you?"

"I guess I do," he said, pulling onto my street. "There're a lot of good people here, and I have some good memories growing up, but the shit that goes down sometimes, it's just wrong, and…" He shook his head, trying to dislodge the memories that were taking hold. "I guess I just don't want to live in that kind of place, and we don't have to, right? I mean, we can do something about it."

"You are amazing."

"No more than you." He looked at me now that he'd parked the car in front of the house. The porch light was on, but the rest of the house appeared to be quiet. "Here you are, in the middle of nowhere, completely out of your element, and you're doing it with such grace. Everyone loves you, and you've settled in and started making a home, and you're doing it by yourself. That's so brave, Bella."

"Huh, doesn't really feel that way, and I didn't really have a choice about doing it alone," I mumbled, more bitterness than I'd realized I felt seeping through.

"I'm sorry he hurt you."

"Thanks." I looked down at my hands, feeling my skin getting tight as the conversation I didn't want to have was sure to begin. It was drizzling softly outside, the rain threatening to pick up. I could feel Jake looking at me.

"I'd love to look at you without you turning away, just once," he whispered, almost pouting.

"Maybe… Jake… I'm not… whole; I'm broken." I looked up at him. "You deserve someone who can meet you where you are. And I'm not there."

"Well, I'm very patient." He smiled before opening his door and walking around to mine.

I shook my head, smiling openly now at the bounce in his step as he came over to me. It felt strange, like wearing someone else's clothes, to be happy with him. But I was - there was no denying that Jacob Black made me happy.

I smiled up at him as he opened my door and held out his hand for me. I took it, trying to leave my fears in the car behind me, but they were strapped to me, weighing me down with the depth of my pain.

We walked hand in hand up the steps to the front door.

"All right." He stopped on the porch. "Goodnight."

"Jake, wait."

He turned back as the rain picked up.

"Come in," I told him, building my courage and letting the stronger part of myself take charge.

"Bella… I don't think…" He was hesitant, but lust was evident in his eyes.

"I just want to give you my number," I laughed.

"Oh." He dropped his eyes from mine and walked back up the stairs to me.

"Were you hoping for something else?" I asked as he got closer, not sure how far to take this but not wanting to stop; the look in his eyes had promised some amazing things that I was eager to feel. Broken or not, Jacob warmed me up, and at times, he brought me to boiling point, always stopping short.

"No," he said huskily, "your number would be perfect."

I unlocked the door, leading the way back to the kitchen, but as I walked in and reached to turn on the light, I felt his arms come around my waist, stopping me. "Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?"

"No," I sighed, leaning back into him and closing my eyes to let his warmth soak through to me.

"You do," he said into my hair, his nose nuzzling me. "Absolutely gorgeous."

"Thanks." I pulled away and turned around to him. His hands were on my hips now, and he was looking at me intensely. What was wrong with taking what happiness I could find? What was wrong with leading with the parts of me that could feel and letting the rest of me catch up instead of waiting until I was whole? "I'm not turning away now," I whispered, leaning up to kiss him and never stopping to second guess the feelings that were right from the start.

His kiss was different from the other ones; he was passionate and intense, not holding back or making me reach for him. He came down on me hard, his mouth open, his tongue eager, and I accepted all he had to give me. I let him push me into the kitchen and onto the table. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him down, thrusting my chest up to meet him.

His lips were so warm; everywhere he kissed was hot. He kissed me roughly, biting at my neck and sucking on me hard enough to cause a fleeting thought that I really couldn't go teach high school with a hickey. But soon, my thoughts evaporated, and I was laying back on the table, his tongue on my neck and his hand under my shirt moving up, up, up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and scooted towards him, feeling him hard and hot, even through his jeans.

"Jake. Jake!" I giggled in a whisper.

"What?" he groaned, a whine in his voice.

"Rose's room is right there." I pushed him off and pointed behind me. "We should go upstairs." I could hear Jacob's breath catch as I spoke, but I was done pretending that he was something I didn't want. Edward wasn't coming back. I wasn't good enough for him. I wasn't good enough for Jake either, but I could try to be. I could try for him.

He kissed me one last time, slowly sucking on my lip. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." I took his hand and led him back through the house and upstairs. On my door, there was a note from Rosalie that I grabbed as I walked in and turned on the light.

"_This was in yesterday's mail. Sorry_" was written on a post-it note. Probably something from my mom, one of the newspaper clippings she thought I would find interesting that I never do or a coupon for something I don't want. I smiled; she had the best intentions, but it was like she didn't really know me.

Jake closed the door behind us as I walked over to the couch, quickly pulling off the post-it. And there it was: my name - my name in perfect calligraphy, in handwriting that was always the same.

"Oh, my God…" I gasped, unsure if the thing in my hand would burn me all at once or take its time. It was on fire in my hand, and the fire moved up my arm, burning away the flesh there as it went. And the rain overhead let loose, beating down on my tin roof, trying to save me from the flames that ate away at my resolve.

"Bella?" Jake asked as the first sob broke free. I dropped the letter, hoping that if I wasn't touching it, it couldn't burn me, but there it was on the floor, its flames coming across the rug and up my leg. Pain flared as the jeans melted to my skin.

"Bella, are you okay?" Jake tried again as I pulled myself up on the couch, as far from the letter as I could get. "What is this?" He leaned down to pick up the letter.

"Don't touch it!" I screamed, not wanting him to become infected by proxy.

"Okay, okay. What is it?" He sat down on the couch, careful not to get too close.

"Oh, God, Jake…" And I threw myself into his lap, sobbing while he rubbed my back and hair. He soothed me, murmuring and whispering as my heart broke for another man. No, I was not good enough for Jacob Black either.


	8. Chapter 8

I awoke in the morning, still curled in Jacob's lap with a blanket over my legs and his arm resting on my side. His hand was planted firmly on my hip bone, as if he and I were a ball and joint, two opposite pieces of the same function. His head was leaned back at what had to be an uncomfortable angle as he snored. I smiled looking at him. He was a good man; he deserved so much more than the broken mess of me.

He'd spent the night with me, rubbing me and soothing me, never asking questions, never pushing me, never asking about the letter. The letter that had scalded me, leaving a crispy shell behind, was still on the floor. I quietly got up, trying not to disturb Jacob; he deserved some sleep. He'd been up most of the night, and he'd been…amazing.

I picked up the letter and sat in front of the one window in my small sitting room at my desk chair. Taking a deep breath, I ripped it open, shocked by how loud such a small tear could be. But Jacob was still sleeping. Slowly, I opened the stationary inside, seeing his beautiful handwriting before I could read the words.

_Darling Bella,_

_I hope my letter finds you well. Your mother gave me this address; I pray that you don't mind. It's been five months since I left Arizona, and I'm pained with the knowledge that I made the biggest mistake of my life._

_I think of you all the time, seeing your face in my mind every second that I'm away. When I told you that I didn't want you, it was the very blackest kind of blasphemy. I don't deserve your understanding or forgiveness, but I'll earn your trust back somehow. It will be my final act._

_I'll be in Seattle the first weekend of October, performing a concerto I've written. I'd give anything for you to be there. I understand if you cannot, but seeing you would mean so much to me. If you cannot come to Seattle, please, let me come to Forks to visit you._

_Before you, Bella, my life was like a moonless night; very dark, but there were stars—points of light and reason… And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, and there was beauty. When you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn't see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason for anything._

_I love you. I've always loved you, and I always will love you._

_I cannot be without you. Please forgive me._

_Edward_

I read the letter three times, unable to process what was written there. He loved me. He'd been wrong. He wanted to see me. He loved me. But none of it made sense; none of it reverberated true. All of the things I so desperately wanted to hear, all of the things I had dreamed of, were written before me, but they rang hollow, as if in a cavern, no one there to absorb the vibrations. Jacob's snoring paused, and I looked over at him, watching his chest rise and fall as he breathed.

The clock said it was 5:30 am, and the rain was still falling against my window.

The tears fell now without my even noticing. I was exhausted, spent from my night with Jake, but not the way I had planned. Great, I'd ruined just everything now. How would he ever want me after last night? I flinched back from my own thoughts. Jacob. Edward. It was too much. How could you choose between the thing you pined for, the thing you lived and breathed for, and something that was becoming…vital?

Why did Edward have to write me _now_?

I decided a shower would be a good idea, so I grabbed clothes for work out of the bedroom and took them into the bathroom after leaving Jake a note to help himself to coffee downstairs and that I would be out in a second. The water was hot, and the sound of it against my hair drowned out my thoughts.

I took my time washing my hair and shaving my legs. I'd just done it yesterday, but I didn't want to leave the water yet, and any excuse to stay kept me from admitting that I didn't want to go back and face Jacob… face the letter. Eventually the water cooled, and I felt a little bad for not leaving more for Rosalie and Emmett.

I climbed out of the tub and dried off, then wrapped my hair up in the towel so I could get dressed. I pulled on my purple button-up and jeans, wrapping a thick leather belt around the un-tucked shirt. With some jewelry, it made a good outfit, and I was a teacher; why not wear jeans to work?

I opened the door and stepped out to find Jacob reading to Royce on my couch. The boy was snuggled up into his arms, his head resting on his strong chest. A warm feeling washed over me as I smiled looking at them. Their skin was the almost same tint of red, Jacob's slightly darker than Royce's. The man's strong arms wrapped so gently around the boy; he stopped to kiss him on the head before looking up at me and giving me a broad, open smile full of love. This could be my life. This could be mine if only I would let it.

But the letter…

And my smile fell, and I had to look away from Jacob.

"Miss Bella! My Uncle J was here this morning! Uncle J, are you friends with Miss Bella? She's my friend; she's my best friend!"

"Yeah, buddy, Miss Bella is my friend, too," he replied, looking up at me. I was ashamed of what my tears last night had told him. I was ashamed of the weakness in me. I didn't want to be in pain; I didn't want to be some broken girl. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be something that was worth loving. And now whatever was growing between us was stunted.

"Roy!" Rosalie called from downstairs. "Come on, breakfast time."

"Go on, buddy." Jake lifted the boy off his lap, handing him the oversized book and giving him a pat on the butt to get him moving.

Royce toddled across the room, still more baby than kid, and as he left us, the silence became painful.

"Jake, um…thanks."

"No problem, Bella." He got up and walked over to me. "Are you okay?" he asked kindly. But I didn't want his kindness. I wanted him to be angry at me, annoyed by my weakness. I wanted him to see that I wasn't something he wanted. I wanted him to never leave… I was selfish and confused. There was so much noise in my head; I couldn't think for trying.

"Right as rain." I grimaced as soon as I'd spoken; I so didn't want to have this conversation.

"Bella, you don't have to cover it up for me. I know someone broke your heart." He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to his chest. "Its okay, honey; I'm not going anywhere."

And the tears came again, slowly this time, as he said the one thing I so desperately needed to hear.

"It's okay; I've got loads of time. I'm not going to give up. I'm very patient." He kissed me sweetly on the top of the head, and I tried to pull myself together.

"You shouldn't, Jake. You know, I'm not like a car that you can fix up. I'm never going to run right," I murmured into his chest, never wanting him to let go of me, even as I told him to.

"You run just fine, Bella; I like you the way you are."

"What am I going to do with you?" I looked up at him.

"I can think of a few things, but I think we both have to get to work." He winked at me before stepping back. His eyes grew serious. "Bella, really, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I will be, I guess. I don't know. I have a lot to think about now."

"That letter… It was from whoever broke you?"

"Yes."

"Did you read it?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"He's sorry. He wants to see me." I looked at the floor.

Jake's hands pulled up into fists. "Oh." He took a breath and looked at me. "And?"

"I don't know yet, Jake. I just... don't know."

"Yeah, okay." He took a step back from me and brought his hand to the back of his neck. "I should go, have to change before heading to the station…"

"Jake…"

"No, it's okay, Bella; just, you know, give me a call sometime, okay?"

"Jacob…" I called after him, listening as he walked downstairs until I heard the door open and close softly. I could hear his car start and drive down the gravel path. I listened as he disappeared toward La Push; his scent was still tangible in the air. It smelled like home. How had he gotten such a strong hold on me already?

I went to my room, grabbed some earrings, and started putting on a little make-up when Rosalie came storming upstairs.

"Are you sleeping with Jacob Black?"

"What?"

"Please, Bella, I'm not an idiot. Are you sleeping with Jacob?"

"It's really not your business, but no, I'm not."

Rosalie visibly relaxed before taking a breath and looking at me.

"Oh, thank God," she sighed, sitting on the end of my bed. "When I saw him here this morning, I thought…"

"Thought what, Rosalie?" I snapped, turning to her. "You know, he was nothing but amazing last night. In fact, he's been nothing but amazing every time I've seen him!"

"You have it bad for him, huh?" she smiled, confusing me thoroughly.

"What, now you're teasing me? You just got through being relieved I'm not sleeping with him. Sometimes you really make no sense."

"Bella, Jake is fine; I know he's a good guy at the end of the day, but you just don't know what it's like down there. I know people are nice to you now, but if you start dating Jake, things will cool off fast."

"What's wrong with all you people?" I asked, grabbing my purse and starting downstairs.

"Bella," Rosalie called after me.

"No, you know what? I really… I'm not interested. I had the worst fucking night of my life last night, and Jake was there for me, really there for me, and now you're giving me a hard time about him? This whole town can jump off a cliff for all I care, but Jake, he's phenomenal. None of your racist bullshit can change that."

"I am not a racist," Rosalie insisted, looking at me strongly.

"No? It sure sounds like you are whenever you talk about the Quileutes."

"They've treated me… badly." She looked at the living room floor between us. "Royce has been treated badly. If it wasn't for Paul and Jake and Sam…"

"Rose, things are changing; Jake is changing them, and Royce does have them on his side. You have to… I don't know… trust in people."

Rosalie looked up at me with pain in her eyes. "I used to." She shook her head and walked past me to the kitchen.

I followed her and grabbed a yogurt drink out of the fridge with more force than I'd intended, but I was still worked up from my conversation with Rose. I planed on just heading off to work when I heard Royce behind me.

"Miss Bella, are you gonna marry Uncle J?"

Kneeling to face him, I smiled. "I don't know Royce. I only just met him."

"You should marry him; you can carry a flower, and then you'll get a ring, and then you'll be his."

"Hmmm… I'll keep that in mind." I smiled, kissing the sweet boy in front of me on the forehead and hating to admit that his vision of my future didn't sound that bad. I might have even wanted that, might have been able to even love him, until that letter…

I felt my body start to cramp up, pulling in on itself, so I said my goodbyes quickly before running outside. The rain was still falling but not enough to get me wet, and the air, the air smelled fresh and clean. It even tasted good. Yes, I was beginning to love the fragrant taste of rain.

The drive to La Push was beautiful with two rainbows in the sky. It was like the clouds had opened up and a hand had reached down to show me how good things could be here. I was getting my own God-guided tour of Forks and La Push. The trees were lush, showing off their greenery and trying to seduce me with nature.

Today, class went easily; my English classes were already scheduled for library/research time for their first projects. I'd discovered that by keeping all the grades on the same general outline with different subject matter, I could manage my classes better. It wasn't going to work for the whole year, especially with the seniors, but for the first few months, it was a good plan.

Unfortunately, what it did was give me far too much time to think. I couldn't distract myself in a book; I needed to be paying some attention to what my students were doing. So I pulled out my notebook and started writing. I found that the words flowed from me much easier than I'd expected. It was difficult to pull myself away when asked a question. I wrote and wrote, edited and redlined. I felt something calling me, and with each new piece, I could hear it approaching, coming closer and closer.

It had been a while since I'd worked on anything of my own… almost five months actually. Right after Edward had left, I found quite a bit of fodder for inspiration, but that well drained, and all of my work became redundant. Lamentations of pain are only interesting for so long before they become flat and hollow. That's what constant pain does. It hollows you out, stealing your soul. Now though, I could feel something else bubbling up.

My creative writing class was the last class of the day, and today was the day they were to share whatever they'd been working on since the beginning of the year. It was the first time I was making everyone, not just volunteers, read, and while I was excited, they were terrified.

There were a number of mediocre pieces, all about identity and love and flowers - none of it particularly inspired but none of it exceptionally bad either. There was fertile ground to work with, definitely, and a few who had real potential as they matured. And then it was time for Claire to read. As I listened, my breathing stopped, and my heart didn't beat, allowing the only sound to be her words.

_Dried on the skin_

_my blood is mistaken_

_for something else_

_I folded myself_

_into each man_

_like an envelope_

_the sky presses_

_against the windows_

_but I am not at home**.**_

When she finished, the class was silent until one of the boys started to laugh. "Weirdo Claire strikes again."

"That will not happen in this classroom," I yelled, furious. I was angry for Claire, angry for all the assholes who'd laughed at my work, angry for all the times Jacob was teased as a kid for being an artist. The offending boy sat stock–still, looking at me. None of them had heard me yell before; hell, they hadn't ever even been scolded, but I would not tolerate that.

"Do I need to treat you like a kindergartner?" I asked, deadly serious.

"No, Ma'am."

"Then show me."

"Umm, I'm sorry."

"Not to me, Brady."

"Okay, uhh Claire? I'm sorry."

"Okay, whatever," she said, not looking at him.

"Claire." I'd intended to speak to her after class, but now I thought perhaps a public mention would be more appropriate.

"Yes?"

"I think that was amazing. Talk to me after class about some places you could submit it for publication. I think it merits being sent in."

"Wow, okay, Miss Swan."

"Bella."

"Right, Bella." She smiled down at her desk, flushed, and I remembered with vivid detail what she was feeling.

After class, I stayed at my desk, having found it easier to work here without Royce climbing on my lap. I had work to grade and class preparations to make, but all I could do was stare out the window and write in my notebook. There was something there; I could taste it now.

As I saw the sun starting to set, I packed up my notes and headed out to my car, my notebook burning a hole in my mind. I'd written three complete pieces today, each one better than the last. Whatever was taking root was important.

I spent the night in my room, taking dinner up to my desk to edit and rework, finding every possible adjustment and then returning to the original, balancing all of my edits against the intended affect. I worked through the night, not stopping until the clock said 2:00, and I forced myself to sleep.

The night was restless; I dreamed of the ocean and a wooden woman with my mother's face. I dreamed of a fire that ate pain. I dreamed I was Sita, crossing the pyre and coming out on the other side pure.

The next day, I worked late again, catching up on the work I'd neglected the day before. I was excited to get home, new edits and some new beginnings twirling in my mind. At my car, I noticed that there were post-it notes stuck all over my window. Each one had an individual word on it.

_Bella_

_Call_

_Me_

_I_

_Miss_

_Your_

_Voice_

_-Jacob_

I pulled them off and smiled to myself. The schism in me was deep now. The part that was frozen, unable to move, paralyzed with my love for Edward, had shrunk. It was screaming in protest, wanting to take over, consume all of me, leaving me a paraplegic, frozen in time, waiting for his return. That part of me clung to his words, hope springing it to action, planning on going to Seattle in two weeks.

The other part of me was on fire for Jake. That part laughed and smiled; it was growing and changing, becoming a person that I'd never met before, becoming someone who didn't need Edward or Jacob, becoming the person who could stand equal with a man. My fire-self hated Edward; it was venomous with hurt and anger over what had been done to me. She wasn't healed, but she was ready to make her way, step out of the cold and find her own path.

These parts, fire and ice, warred within me, each having equal pull. I'd tried letting things happen, ignoring the protests, but now, that letter. Edward's words called to me, as they always did. His open proclamation of love was seducing, and it undermined everything that was telling me to run from him. In the end, I was lost, pulled by the undercurrents, out of control of the direction of my heart.

At home, Emmett wasn't there, which meant Rose had ordered Chinese. If I wasn't home in time to cook, it was that, pizza, or bagels. It was a wonder she and Royce weren't nutritionally deprived. I'd never met someone who really and truly could not cook before. I knew people who didn't like to, but Rose… it was actually really impressive.

I grabbed a plate and sat with them, eating quietly and listening to Royce's chatter.

"So, Mama, we're going on a field trip. You have to sign the paper; it's in my folder, but we're going to see the fishes, Mama, and the aquarmum!"

"Okay, baby, I'll look in your backpack after dinner."

"I can go? Oh, good, I'm going to sit with Dalton, and I'm going to wear my school shirt, and we're going to hold hands, and I'm going to see a dolphin. Miss Bella, you ever seen a dolphin?"

"Only at the aquarium. It sounds like a fun trip."

"I'm really excited; Dalton's going to be my line buddy; he's my best friend; I'm going to marry Dalton."

"Okay, buddy, that sounds good," I laughed, loving how easy the world was when you're three. You can just walk up to someone about your size and say, 'Hi! You look nice. Wanna be my friend?' And more often than not, they'd say yes, you'd have fun, and that other little person would be just as happy to be with you as you were to be with them. At what point do we stop being able to do that? At what point do we allow ourselves to outgrow happiness?

I finished eating and went upstairs to change into my yoga pants and a tee-shirt. Then I sat on my love seat, notebook next to me, so I could work later, and called Jake.

"Hey, Jake. It's Bella."

"Well, hello there, stranger. Glad you got my note."

"Well, it was hard to miss."

"It's not usual I go through such contortions to get a girl's attention, you know."

"So I'm lucky then?" I joked.

"Oh, most definitely."

"All right," I laughed, "what do you want?"

"There's this, like, event on Saturday… thought it'd be fun if you came."

"What's it for?"

"Oh, it's at the college?" he answered elusively.

"Okay, but is there, like, a reason?" I asked, sure there was something he wasn't telling me.

"Does it matter?"

"Perhaps."

"Okay, it's for the growing epileptic goat problem," he offered.

"You mean fainting goats?"

"Oh, you've heard of it? Then you know it's an epidemic. It's our moral duty to get involved."

"Sure, sure," I laughed, feeling his words come so easily from my mouth. When had we started talking alike?

"So will you go?"

"I don't know; it sounds sketchy." My smile was so broad from talking to him that my face hurt. Just chatting on the phone made my day better.

"Come on, we'll have fun; I promise."

"All right, but I have to go. I'm trying to work on class prep right now."

"Great, that's awesome; I'll put us down for two. What are you working on?"

"Trying to decide how to get my creative writing students to let go a little; I was thinking of reading something I've been working on."

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'm just not sure they'll get it," I admitted hesitantly

"Well, read it to me… I'm about as smart as a garden snail when it comes to that kind of stuff, so if I get it, they sure will."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, hit me."

"Okay… umm, so I was thinking about this one – I, um, I actually just started working on it this week, but it just kind of flowed, and that's what I want them to try and do."

"Okay, Bella, just read it."

"Oh." I took a deep breath. "It's called 'Cry.'

_The little celestial poet_

_Opens the shutters of her heart_

_The skies collide. Oblivion_

_Uproots the symphony_

_Stableboy, the crazy house_

_Which gives you wolves to guard_

_Does not guess the rage_

_Smoldering under the great alcove_

_Of the vault that hangs over us_

_Therefore silence and night_

_Muzzle all impurity_

_The sky with giant strides_

_Moves in on the crossroads of noise_

_The sun lower than the day_

_Turned the whole sea to steam_

_A dream strange but clear_

_Was born on the earth gone mad."_

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and I listened to him breathing as I feared that I had revealed too much. Or had I distanced myself, showing him that my brain did not work the way others did, that I was, in fact, a creature outside of normality?

"I think you'll be fine," he finally whispered.

"Oh… okay."

"I mean," he coughed, "that was… really something… I've never heard anything like that… Anyone who can't feel it isn't listening." And that moment would forever be the singular moment in time when Jacob Black won my heart. If only I'd known it then.

**

* * *

Chapter Notes:**

Claire's poem "Recounting" is by Kathy Lou Schultz.

Bella's poem is a horribly bastardized and gender adjusted version of Antonin Artaud's brilliant poem "Cry." I'll probably go to Theatre Hell for doing this (I think that's called Reality TV...). If you don't know Antonin Artaud, it's okay. Few people outside of the community do, but you should. He was brilliant and pained and crazy and just magnificent.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Darling Readers!

RAIN is in the running for Best Non-Canon Pairing Fic! I had no idea! Who did this! I'm so touched, this story means so much to me and I'm so thrilled that you all have enjoyed it as well!

Thank you so much, I'm so excited that my story is even on here. Please go check it out and vote! http : / / ning . it / e1MqxJ


	9. Chapter 9

Thursday and Friday were uneventful: school, class prep, writing. I had added another section onto the end of the poem I'd read to Jacob, making it… I don't know, more complete but somehow sadder than I'd intended. But it fit. It was exactly where my head was at lately, so I didn't feel it was fair to cut it just because it was scary. That's what art was, right? It had to touch on something true and essential, which was inherently scary, before it could be art.

The idea of reading it to Jake was terrifying though, which should have shown me how deep that truth ran, but I was so used to ignoring my feelings, undermining my instincts, that I didn't see it. He saw it long before I did, and for that, I'll always be sorry. If I was braver, I could have spared us both so much pain.

But the myth of Edward held me firmly in its grasp. He was everything I imagined I was supposed to want. He was beautiful and elegant, taciturn and eloquent. He was an image of an old-fashioned artist, suffering and sacrificing. There was a part of me that envied him, the strength it took to commit to his art over me. Somewhere, I had come to believe that artists, like priests, had to be austere.

But I was creating some of my best work now, here in Forks. This wasn't the isolated existance of an artist. I was in a small town with a small group of friends, and Jacob - I couldn't deny the importance of Jacob in my work. Here I was free to dream and live; here I was happy. I was creating and happy. I nonetheless believed that the inspiration was flowing from Edward, that his letter, his desire for me, had opened a closed floodgate.

Friday, I was sitting in the teacher's lounge long after classes had ended, working in my notebook. There was a couch there to sit on, and when no one was around, it was a quiet, comfortable place to work. I was still reaching for something; the pieces I had begun were mostly finished, but there was something else, something that remained out of my grasp.

"Hey, Bella, what are you still doing here?" Sam Uley asked as he walked out of his office and into the teacher's lounge on his way home.

"Oh, just finishing some writing."

"I wanted to tell you how great I think you're doing," he said, sitting next to me. "I'd never believe you didn't have any teaching experience if I didn't already know it."

"Thanks."

"I hear nothing but raves and complaints from the kids, which is what I like, none of that middle of the road stuff."

"Complaints?"

"Only because you hold them to it, grade hard, and keep on the pressure. Trust me, complaints are good things," he laughed.

"Okay…"

"So, since you're still here, do you want to come over for dinner? My fiancée and I are having a bonfire down on the beach to celebrate her birthday."

"Oh, I don't want to intrude."

"No, no, it'd be great to have you. Leah's dying to meet you, and I know Jake would love to see you."

"Oh." I blushed, not aware that Sam knew I'd been seeing Jake. Even I couldn't pretend they weren't dates anymore.

"Come on," he encouraged, getting up. "You can follow me over; it'll be fun."

"Okay, Sam, thanks. Let me run and grab my bag."

The drive to Sam's was short; nothing in La Push was very far from anything else. Getting lost here was a near impossibility. There were really only two roads, but if you got out on one of the trails, you could be out there for days without seeing anyone. I hadn't ventured far here; there was a lot of talk about bears and wolves, but someday, I'd love to wander these hills and see what I could find.

Sam lived in a beautiful two-bedroom cabin with his fiancée. From what he'd told me, they were planning on getting married this summer when she finished nursing school. Sam seemed like he was years ahead of me, but in reality, he was only three years older than I was. Inside was overwhelming. I stuck with Sam for as long as it was polite but soon went out to sit on the porch, pulling out my notebook to jot some thoughts down before they evaporated back into the ether.

I knew many of the people there, but I'd been lost in a sea of strangers. The house was small, and no one was headed to the beach yet. Sam's fiancée Leah was beautiful and seemed nice, but she was busy with her guests. In all reality, I was happier out here than anywhere else. I liked being near the activity but wasn't really interested in being a part of it.

"You know it's a sign you have a problem if you drink alone." I heard Jake's voice behind me.

"Good thing I only have a soda then." I turned and smiled, struck by how handsome he was. He was leaning against the frame of the back door, looking down at me on the stairs; his hair was spiked up with more care then I was used to seeing. He had on a white, well-fit button-up shirt that wasn't buttoned nearly all the way up and jeans. He took my breath away. Was it rude to stare at something so beautiful or could it be considered a compliment? Because that's certainly how I meant it.

"What'cha doin'?" he asked, coming to sit next to me.

"Oh, just doodling; finishing up the poem I read you the other night."

"Sounded finished to me."

"It needed just a little more," I admitted shyly.

"Read it to me."

"I don't know."

"What, you read me the beginning. Can't I hear the end? It's not nice to make me beg." He bumped his shoulder into me.

"Okay:

_Two traditions met_

_But their padlocked thoughts_

_Did not have room:_

_Experiment to be repeated**.**"_

We sat in silence for a moment, staring out at the trees behind Sam's cabin.

"Is that about me?" he asked, looking over at me. I nodded my head without looking at him, biting my lip. "I don't think anyone's ever said anything so beautiful to me." The force of his sincerity made me turn to look at him.

"Well, like I said, you're beautiful."

He leaned in and brushed my lips gently with his, causing my skin to tingle with the contact. "Bella," he breathed before pulling away. "So," he leaned back on his hands, "I'd say that means I can officially consider tomorrow night a date."

"I don't know about that," I laughed, smiling back at him.

"Oh, I think so. I'm beautiful; that means I get to date you."

"Can't I enact the friend clause?" I teased.

"No, I think I'm done being your friend," he said more forcefully than necessary, the truth deeper than the words. "Come on, let's go back inside; we should be heading up to the beach soon."

"It's so loud in there," I whined.

Jacob rolled his eyes. "I'll protect you. Come on." He stood up and held out his hand, and I took it. I took what Jacob offered me without a second thought; I didn't think of the cost.

Inside was a melee, everyone was talking at once, and Leah was trying desperately to get people to carry things to the beach for her. I clung to Jacob's arm, feeling his strength. I realized I liked being on his arm, looking up; I was proud even, to be with him. Moments like these slowed the infection of Edward that was working its way back into my bloodstream.

Finally people started to file out, and I dragged Jacob to the door so that we could get to the beach. I could handle the crowd if only there were no walls and ceiling to hold us all in. Jake stopped and took off his shoes as we got near the path to the beach, putting them in the grass next to the trail.

"Won't someone take them?"

"No, Bella, no one is going to take your shoes."

"Are you sure? I really like these shoes."

"I'm positive no one is going to take your-what?-size four Converse clogs."

"Size six and shut up!"

"Make me," he taunted, kicking sand at me before running up the path laughing.

_Such a boy sometimes!_ I smiled to myself before taking off after him, determined to get some sand in that nicely coiffed hair before the end of the night.

As I rounded the last bend and the tree line ended, I saw the most beautiful beach. I had been to the boardwalk and main tourist beach but never out here. This was a secluded beach with no public access. The sand was fine and felt heavenly under my feet; still warm from the sun's last rays. There was a roaring fire completely unattended with children running about; there didn't seem to be any fear of them falling in. This was a wild place; an untamed place where the rules bended with ease.

I walked without thinking toward the water - dark blue and green, no longer clear as night settled in above us but deep and unknowable.

"Hey, Bella! Look what I found!" I heard Jake call over the squealing of a small child. When I turned, I found that he was holding a wriggling toddler by one ankle and walking toward me.

"Royce!" I called, running over to him to snatch him up and hug him.

"Miss Bella! Why are you here? No pale-faces allowed; Papa told me!"

"Miss Bella's an exception," Jacob said, ruffling Royce's hair and smiling at me.

"Good. Uncle J, do it again!" he cheered, forgetting my existence as Jacob twirled the child by his legs. Jacob equaled Royce's glee with his own.

"Give me that boy," Paul laughed as he ran over and grabbed Royce's arms, swinging him back and forth with Jake.

"Daddy!" Royce called, and Jacob let him down so he could jump in his father's arms. "Look, Miss Bella's here!"

"Oh, hotbox girl, you're Bella, huh?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"I didn't realize you were important to both my main men here." Paul smiled sweetly. "Someday you'll have to tell us your secret; I've never seen Jake work on something so hard."

"What?" I looked between the two men, noticing how different they were: one tall and lanky, the other the same height but broad and strong. Even their faces were different, but somehow, they were brothers, and it was easy to see.

"Shut up, Paul."

"What? I'm just sayin'."

"Daddy, the hot dogs are here! I'm hungry!"

"Come on then, boy; let's eat!" Paul took Royce's hand and headed up to where the food was being set up.

"He really loves his son, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, he's a good guy. Most around here would have just let Roy go, but Paul… he's just not like that." Jake took my hand, and we started strolling down the beach, not going anywhere, just enjoying the last strands of sunlight. His hand was warm and soft, and again, I noticed how right it felt intertwined with mine.

"It's too bad he and Rosalie can't get along better."

"Yeah, it's too bad neither of them knows how to shut up," Jake laughed.

"So," I began, jumping around a little in the sand as we walked, "how was your week?"

"Oh, it was good! I didn't get much done at the garage, though, because I had some stuff to finish for tomorrow night, but I'll catch up."

"What did you have to do for tomorrow night?"

"Oh, just finish up some things."

"Like what? Jake, where are we going?"

"To the college; I told you that."

"Yeah, but what's the event?" I whined. I hated surprises.

"You'll see." He wouldn't look at me.

"You're an ass."

"Yeah, well, at least I'm a sexy ass, right?" he asked, finally looking down at me.

"Now how do I answer that? If I say no, you'll pout all night, and if I say yes, you'll get a big ego and be unbearable!" I needled, poking him in the abs. Wow, was he built. I wondered what he looked like without that shirt on… without pants… _Okay, that's enough out of you, libido._

"Hmmm, valid points both. I think you should just kiss me." He stopped and turned to me.

"I violently disagree," I teased, bolting away from him. I knew he could run faster than I could, but he chased after me as I weaved away from him, kicking up sand and water as we went, giggling like children and laughing like lovers.

And then I was on the ground. Jacob had finally had enough of my game and had run straight into my middle with his arms wrapping them around me and pulling me down to the sand. I took advantage of the moment to grab a handful of sand and rub it into his hair while he tickled me.

I laughed so hard my sides hurt.

I laughed so hard my tears fell.

I laughed so hard I forgot about the letter on my desk.

I laughed so hard I forgot about the culture wars around me.

I laughed until he kissed me, my back molded into the sand and my fingers laced into his hair. He lay next to me in the sand, out of breath from laughing and with a light shining from his eyes that no lamp could have created, and kissed me.

It was slow and sweet. His mouth stayed closed as he kissed me firmly, again and again. I leaned into him and brought my leg up, laying it on top of his. His hand came up to my neck, holding me as he kissed and kissed. I moaned softly, scooting closer to him, sucking on his lip, and nipping at him, but he just kissed me harder. I was dizzy with the innocence of it. These closed-mouth kisses stolen in the sand were the single, sexiest experience I'd had with him yet.

I brought my hand to his chest, feeling his heart beat as he kissed me.

Eventually he pulled away from me, his breathing strained. He kissed me once more before sitting up. "Hungry?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Come on, it's dark now; let's get back to the fire." In the distance, the blaze was tall and sparking orange and red.

"I like fire," I said as we walked back slowly, hand in hand. I leaned slightly into him, bumping against his arm with each step.

"Don't tell Emmett."

"What? It's beautiful, and it's passionate."

"It is, but water, you know water is the strongest force of all; it can wear down even the strongest rocks and put out even the hottest fires."

"I guess you're like water then, huh?"

"No, I have no desire to put out your fire."

"Pervert."

"Romantic!"

"Riiiight," I smiled up at him, loving how easy it was to flow back and forth from serious to playful with him.

He bumped me softly with his hip, smiling as we continued on in silence.

As we joined the group, everyone was jovial, music was playing, and the fire was warm. Children were eating and running around, in and out of the woods. There was a kind of freedom here I'd never felt before. Jake and I sat on a blanket after getting some food and started to eat. It was fascinating listening to everyone speak. It was mostly English but now and then another, completely unfamiliar sound would break in.

"What language is everyone speaking?"

"English and some Quileute."

"Oh, I didn't realize people actually spoke it."

"Yeah, well, not many did for a long time, but now it's being taught in school, and more of us are trying."

"Hísta tási," he called as Royce ran by. The boy paused, looked at him, and tilted his head before coming over and holding up his hand for a high five.

"Teach me!" I exclaimed excitedly, putting my plate down and turning to him.

"Umm, okay, what do you want to learn?"

"I don't know. What do you start teaching the kids?"

"Okay, how about counting to 5?"

"Okay!" I was really excited; I loved any chance to learn something new. I wasn't good at languages, but this was something different; this was something about the people I worked with and people I cared about that I could learn.

"Repeat after me, okay?"

"wił," he said slowly.

"WAY-th."

"ła?w."

"Thah-oo."

Jake smiled at me encouragingly; I wasn't sure if that meant I was doing well or badly, but before I could ask, he moved on.

"ķwa?l."

"KWAH-uhl."

"bá?yas."

"BAH-uh-yas."

"tási."

"TAH-see!" I yelled, thrilled that I could get that one to sound at least close to his.

"Awesome! You did really great!"

"Shípa! Ałila-cha'?" an older man from across the fire called out.

"None of your business, old man," Jake hollered back with a friendly voice.

"Who's that?"

"Just one of the old guard who thinks we shouldn't teach outsiders our language."

"Oh, well, I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Can't, Bella; it's just a language. You could learn it at work if you wanted to or on the internet; it's not like it's some big secret."

Sitting here with Jake, next to the fire, eating hamburgers cooked over coals stoking in the sand, I could forget the rest of the world. I could relax into his eyes. But as I looked at him, an old song came into my mind: _Though your lips are tempting, they're the wrong lips…_ No matter how great Jacob was, he wasn't Edward; he never would be. Could I be happy with Jacob when I knew Edward was out there; when I knew he wanted me?

What would life with Edward be like now, traveling and creating, performing and seeing the world? He had no concern for money as his parents were wealthy and happy to support his art. I knew they would have supported mine too, if things had gone differently. Is that a life I could live now, one without roots or community? Could I be a modern ex-patriot, searching the world for inspiration?

"Hey, Shípa! This your Hókwat'?"

"No, you ass, this is Bella. Bella, this is Quil."

"Oh, yeah, hey," I said, turning to the smiling face lying behind me.

"Yeah! Hi! I guess Jake didn't burn your skin off in the hotbox after all."

"No, still there."

"Good, you're too pretty to get the Royal Jake Treatment."

"Shut up!" Jake punched Quil in the shoulder.

"Baby! Where'd you go?" a young voice called before coming over to sit next to Quil. She sat down gracefully, her body comfortable with the contact with his. She leaned in and kissed him before pushing her long black hair behind her ear and looking at us. When she saw me, the smile vanished, and her eyes dilated. Even if it wasn't a big deal here on the reservation, some part of her knew that what I'd just seen was not okay.

"Claire?"

"Umm, yeah, hi, Miss… I mean, Bella."

I stared at her, unsure of what to say as I took in the youthful flush on her face and remembered the knowing words of her poetry. I looked at Quil, who seemed oblivious to the conversation going on silently between Claire and me. Claire… she was maybe fifteen, maybe fourteen. How old was Quil? Certainly out of high school.

"Claire, Bella told me you were doing some great work in class," Jacob said lightly, breaking the moment and forcing me back to the situation before me.

"Yeah, I, um, I sent some stuff in to a publishing house."

"Really?" Quil asked, looking at her. "That's amazing! Can I read it?"

"Oh, ah…" She looked at me sheepishly, becoming the child she was for a moment and asking for my help.

"Quil, why don't you wait until it's published? It'll be so much more exciting to see it in a magazine."

"Yeah, you can see it then," Claire agreed, smiling at me.

"So, Bella, you going tomorrow?" Quil asked, accepting the compromise without complaint and with a sparkle in his eye.

"To what?" I asked cagily.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Jake laughed. "It's a surprise. I want you to go in without any assumptions."

"God, what are you doing to me?"

"Nothing, it'll be fun."

Quil was sitting up now, his arm draped around Claire; she looked happy there but still wouldn't meet my eye.

"Okay, will you at least give me a hint? I mean, what should I wear? Is it mud wrestling or formal wear?"

"Mud wrestling, definitely mud wrestling," Quil cackled. "Come on, Jake, can we take the girls mud wrestling?"

"Quil!" Claire squealed playfully, smacking him in the chest.

"What, baby? It'd be hot!"

"Bella, wear whatever you want, but, ah, wear pants."

"Okay….this is sounding more and more ominous the more I find out."

"Good, that'll keep you interested." He winked at me.

"All right, Shípa, we're gonna head out. Come on, baby, we have to get you home for curfew," Quil said, standing up. What time was it? The sky had gotten dark while we were talking.

When they left, Jake lay back, putting his hands behind his head. His chest and stomach expanded with his movements, his body beautiful and strong. I lay next to him on my side, looking at his face… _though your face is charming, it's the wrong face…_

"What is it that everyone keeps calling you? Sheepa?"

"No, Shípa. SHAY-puh. It means Black in Quileute; it's a nickname."

"Oh, it's nice."

"I guess. It makes me feel like I never left here though, you know, like I'm still the stupid teenager who got crushes on the wrong girls and couldn't keep my temper in check. It's just not who I am anymore."

"I feel that way when my mother calls me Isabella."

"That's pretty though."

"Yeah, to you. Shípa is pretty to me. It's all about where you're coming from, you know?"

"I do," he smiled at me. "I like talking to you; you… think."

"I try."

"No, I mean it; you don't just stop at where things are."

"I like you too, Jake."

He smiled over at me, letting my words hang between us like fog.

"Hey, Jake," Paul said, breaking the spell before it was fully cast. "You, ah, you two have plans tonight?"

"What? Oh, ah, no…" Jake answered, looking at me out of the side of his eye.

"Well, look, Kim is here, and she and Jared aren't… so I was wondering if…"

"Sure, sure, Paul; I'll take Royce home."

"Great! Thanks!" Paul ran off to tell the girl waiting for him.

"I guess that's my cue," Jacob stood up, dusting the sand off of his jeans ineffectively.

"Oh, okay."

"Unless, I mean, I just need to drop Royce off at the Uleys'. Do you want to… come back to my place?" he asked as I stood up.

"Jake…"

"No, not like that, I know you're not… Crap," he sighed, putting his hand on the back of his neck.

Smiling, I said, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah." He looked down. "Sorry, I don't want to… I know you have some shit to work through."

"It's okay." I leaned up to him, kissing him on the side of his mouth.

"I'll pick you up at 5:00, okay?"

"Yeah… Goodnight, Jake."

As I walked back to the house to find Sam and say goodbye, I heard Royce's happy voice talking to Jacob. The words were muffled, absorbed by the sand.

* * *

**Bella's Poem: ****This is a horribly bastardized and gender adjusted version of Antonin Artaud's brilliant poem 'Cry.' I'll probably go to Theatre Hell for doing this (I think that's called Reality TV…). If you don't know Antonin Artaud, it's okay, few people outside of the community do, but you should. He was brilliant and pained and crazy and just magnificent.**

**A****ll of the Quileute here is real according to the great and wise internet. I used real phrases with their real meanings, but I don't speak Quileute, so if it's wrong, blame it on the internet, okay?**


	10. Chapter 10

Emmett was still in his workout clothes from his morning run as I came into the kitchen to make some lunch. "Grilled cheese?" I asked him, hunting through the almost-empty refrigerator.

"Sounds good." He laid his head down on the table.

"Hard run?"

"Yeah, I went to the station to work out with the guys, and Jake was there, so we all got our asses handed to us. Fucker and his military workouts."

"It's good for you," I chuckled, thinking any workout that could kick Emmett's ass must be pretty serious.

"Yeah, sure." He leaned back in his chair, stretching and trying to wake up.

"Okay, hold on," Rosalie was saying into a cell phone as she walked out of their room in a nightgown. "Here." She handed Emmett the phone before turning around to go back to bed; she had a nasty cold and was decidedly unpleasant to be around when she was sick.

"Thanks, Babe!" He took the phone and put it to his ear. "This is Emmett… hey, big man… no, you fucker… no, that was awful… whatever… yeah, yeah, I'll be there… don't know; I'll talk to her, but… yeah… oh, she doesn't? Heh, okay… later."

"Was that Jake?" I asked, taking the cheese out of its package and beginning to slice it.

"Yep."

"Do you know what's going on tonight?" I turned to Emmett, leaning my back against the counter.

"Yep."

"He told you not to tell me, didn't he?"

"Yep."

"Fuck…"

Emmett chuckled behind me as I continued to slice the cheese. We worked together in comfortable silence, making sandwiches and doing up some dishes. I was planning on spending the day doing laundry and cleaning. Rose usually kept the main floor clean, just doing it when she cleaned their rooms, but I wanted to do more to help. She was sick, so this was a good day for it.

I found the cleaning bucket in the basement, with rags and Pledge and Lysol all lined up. Rose was so OCD sometimes. It definitely made some things easier though. I could learn a little from her; being organized freed up so much time that I would otherwise spend hunting for socks.

I wiped the furniture in the living room, the handrail upstairs, and everything in my rooms before moving on to the windows. There's something relaxing about cleaning; perhaps it's the methodical way you go from one room to the next, leaving achievement in your wake. It was easy to get a passing grade in window washing, and so easy to see what you'd accomplished. The room flooded with light as I worked, cleaning the inside and outside of the windows as I went.

After I vacuumed, I moved on to my bathroom. As I scrubbed the green tile and wiped away the grime behind the toilet, I realized I was distracting myself, keeping myself busy so I wouldn't think too much about tonight. I was excited to see Jacob, more than I wanted to be, more than I thought I should be, especially since I had so little to offer him in return. I wasn't sure what I was going to do about Edward yet, but there was a sentence unfinished, waiting for the semicolon that I didn't know how to follow.

It was only 12:30 when I finished my bathroom, and all of my laundry was done. The bed had freshly changed sheets, so I started in on the kitchen, moving the table and cleaning the top of the fridge. When the mail came, I went to get it, sorting it into three piles: Rosalie's, household bills, and mine. I had a letter from my mother, a student loan bill, and another envelope beautifully, perfectly addressed to me.

My heart fell as I looked at it. It was unwanted. He was an interloper in my life here; an unwelcome reminder of a pain I was working on forgetting. But I was unable to turn away, drawn back to him like an addiction. I sat at the table and opened the letter, and before I could read it, a bus ticket to Seattle fell out, paid in full.

_Darling Bella,_

_I have not heard back from you. I can only assume that my last letter left you unsure of what to do. I'm deeply sorry for any pain or confusion I have caused you; never has that been my intention, despite actions that may point to the contrary. I'll never be able to make up for that, but I'll never stop trying anyway._

_Could you believe that, despite everything I've put you through, I love you? You're the only one who's ever touched my heart. It will always be yours._

_Included here is a ticket to Seattle for next Saturday. I hope you'll come. The concert is at 2:00 pm, and then we can spend the day together. There's a seat reserved for you; just give them your name at will call. Please come. I know I don't deserve your kindness, but it would mean everything to me if you were there._

_I'll never forgive myself for leaving you - not if I live a hundred thousand years._

_I love you, forever and always,_

_Edward_

The ticket sat on the table, staring at me with its temptation. There's nothing more tempting than what we cannot have, is there? Edward was my world, my reason for living for so long that it was hard to believe there was something else out there for me. It was hard to believe that I was enough without him. My insecurities grabbed hold of the ticket and took it upstairs, my body following suit without objection. I put the ticket in my desk drawer, next to his first letter, and placed the new letter there as well.

Sitting at my desk, I wrote in my notebook. I wrote about a man who had a second face in the back of his head that called to him, begging to be seen, but no matter how the man strained, the face was always just out of his grasp. And so they were chained together, forever one but never content, as they spun into hell. Sometimes metaphor isn't as veiled as we'd like.

Soon, it was time to get ready, and since I had no idea what we were doing, I dressed simply: nice, tight jeans and a black lace top with a chunky bracelet and earrings. I took my time blowing my hair out and putting it up in a simple ponytail. I put on a little make-up, occupying myself with the ritual of getting dressed. That way I didn't have to admit that waiting for Jacob stirred the butterflies in my stomach in a way that the letter from Edward didn't.

What was it about Jacob that made it so easy to like him? What was it about me that made it impossible to admit it? Once elephants have been shackled long enough, they no longer try to run if you remove the shackles; the phantom chain tying them in place is enough to engender compliance.

Outside, right on time, I heard the growl of an engine pulling in front of the house. I ran down to meet him, but when I opened the door, I was met with, quite simply, the sexiest thing on the planet: Jacob Black, astride a Yamaha dirt bike, in a black, long sleeve, tight-fitting waffle tee-shirt and jeans. It made my mouth - and to be completely honest, other parts of me - water. I walked out, shutting the door behind me and leaving Edward and his old-fashioned calligraphy behind.

"Glad you told me to wear pants."

"Yeah, I thought it might be a problem if I didn't."

"I didn't know you had a bike." I was walking closer now, and he was still astride the bike, holding its power in his hands and between his legs.

"I don't ride it much anymore, but I thought it might be fun to take you out on it."

"Hmmm."

"Is it… okay?" he asked, momentarily unsure of his decision.

"Definitely," I said, smiling and feeling the warmth between my legs twitch at the thought of riding on the back. Walking over to him, I felt an unfamiliar confidence in my step, a forgotten swing to my hips. As I climbed onto the bike behind Jake, I let my hands run across his broad back slowly, taking in the contour of his muscles. His breath stopped as I positioned myself behind him, close against his back, and wrapped my arms confidently around his middle, laying my hands flat against his chest.

"You ready?" he squeaked out, and I smiled with the knowledge that I, little, mousey Bella Swan, had made this man's voice catch.

"Definitely," I said again, huskily, into his neck, letting my breath graze the skin at the neckline of his shirt, where I suddenly wanted to sink my teeth. I felt Jake quiver under my hands before he started the bike up. The vibration of the bike was sudden and strong and hit the seam of my jeans in just the right spot, making me gasp at the unexpected sensation.

I pushed myself firmly up against Jacob, my skin tingling and my nipples acutely aware of the layers of cotton separating them from his skin. I took in a breath of his scent as he took off down the road toward the college. The ride was exhilarating and erotic. If I was a different person, I think I could have climaxed from the sheer excitement of it all, but as it was, I was left wanting more.

Jake's body knew just how to move, taking the turns smooth and slow without ever rushing through them; he trusted the bike and his body to keep us upright. I had no choice but to relax into his movements and allow my hips to adjust as he shifted his weight. After the first few minutes, I found that I could anticipate what he was going to do, and it began to feel like we were moving as one body, one mind.

My hands on his chest, my thighs holding him tight, my body moving with his, the feeling of the bike against my core: Jacob Black was seducing me with Japanese engineering.

I'd never been to the community college that housed the vocational school before. It was a large building with many off-shoots, but we pulled up in front of a large, glass-faced building that read "LIBRARY."

"So you're bringing me to the library for our first date? Not exactly what I'd expected," I smiled, hopping off of Jacob's bike and trying to keep my distance until I regained control over my vibrating body.

"It's the grand opening of the library, actually, so it's a little more than that." He smiled back at me, reaching out and taking my hand as we walked to the building. His hand was warmer than usual, and his face was tight.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little nervous."

I stopped walking and tugged on his hand.

"Not about being here with me, are you? 'Cause you don't need to be."

"No, Bella, not about you. Come on, you'll see," he said, walking toward the building again and picking up the pace.

As we got closer, I could see there were people inside already, milling around a very large structure in the center of the room. It was so big it looked like the building had been built around it. The closer we got, the more I could see of the structure, and then I realized…

"Jake…did you?"

"Yeah," he answered sheepishly, looking down at me.

"Oh, my God!" I walked faster now, overwhelmed with the desire to see all of the sculpture that was taking up the bulk of this grand entranceway.

When we walked in the main doors, still hand in hand, the crowd stilled and applauded. Jake stood there, smiling and graciously taking in the attention with a confidence I marveled at. I could have never handled it. But as I stood there next to him, I realized that they were all looking at me too, the woman on his arm, and I was proud to be there.

Finally, the noise stilled, and Jacob simply said, "Thank you," loudly. And then the crowd went back to admiring his work and milling about the library. The room we were in was like an arboretum, a grand entrance to the library, and the sculpture Jake had created was amazing. It was a very large, very intricate sculpture of a tree. The trunk was wide and thick, made entirely of wood, but some of the bark, instead of being carved, was small individual pieces of metal attached securely.

I began to touch it and looked back at him for permission. He beamed at me and nodded. It was warmer than expected at first touch; the metal and wood were woven together so intricately at times it was only the color that told you where one ended and the next began. There were large, sturdy branches of wood with metal leaves and massive expanses of metal intricately decorated with metal shoots and branches.

I walked around it, under the shade of his creation, running my hand along the trunk as I went and marveling at the detail and love shown in every aspect of this piece.

"Jake…" I whispered as he came up next to me, "this is… the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

"Thanks." He ducked his head under a metal branch to come closer to me.

"How long did this take you?"

"This… oh, ah …about three years, on and off."

"How did you work on it while you were away?"

"Oh, I did small bits and brought them home to assemble when I had leave; most of the larger structures I've done in the last five months though."

"In the hot box?" I asked, recognizing the bend and angle of the metal rods.

"Yeah, a lot of this was done in there."

He was standing next to me now, under the branches of his art, and I threw my arms around him, knowing that despite whatever was out there waiting for me with Edward, what was here before me now was something not to squander. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and I kissed him. I kissed him with not just my body this time, though; I kissed him with my heart, which, while broken, was beating for him.

"Bella," he gasped, pulling away blushing.

"Sorry."

"No, don't ever apologize for kissing me like that. I just… we should go see the rest of the exhibits."

"Okay," I agreed, tucking my arm into his and holding his bicep with both hands, my body turned into him. Tonight, this was mine.

We wandered around the library, where other local artists had pieces displayed and even a few of Jacob's other pieces. Nothing was as amazing as the tree though. The sheer size of it made it overwhelming… and then to see the detail, the exactness of every inch. It was a gift to be able to do that at all, let alone in two mediums.

Jake seemed to know everyone there, stopping to talk to other teachers and some students. I stayed mostly quiet, happy to be on his arm and see him in his element.

"Bella, come here," he said, pulling me along excitedly, as if I wouldn't have followed him anyway. "Bella, this is Angela. She runs Books and Buns. Angela, this is Bella Swan, the new English teacher and poet laureate of La Push."

"Not really, but thanks," I chuckled, looking up at him and glowing with his praise. "Hi, I adore your store."

"Oh, really? That's great! I always worry that I keep too many esoteric things there, you know, not enough Grisham or Charlaine Harris."

"Oh, no, it's amazing. I got a copy of _Under the Glass Bell_ there that -"

"You got that! Oh, I was going to keep that for myself, but one of the kids who works there shelved it." Angela's eyes lit up as we talked; she, like me, clearly longed for someone who spoke the same language. Her glasses were thick and dark, and her hair long with blunt bangs cut in the front. She was dressed in gray and black tweed, like a caricature of a librarian, but under her conservative skirt, she was wearing calf-high Doc Martins. Angela was the perfect image of the modern Gothic school marm.

"Oh, well, sorry."

"No, it's ok; I'm just glad it went to someone who understands it and not some erotica junkie."

"Well, you can borrow it anytime you want."

"All right, well, you two nerds keep chatting; I'll be right back." Jake put his hand on mine before kissing me on the head and moving away to talk to another group of people. My side was cool without him there and my hand empty.

"So, Jake Black, huh?" Angela said with a sideways glance over at him. "He's a fine specimen of man-meat." She giggled lightly.

"Oh, ah, yeah, I guess he is."

"You're brave dating him; not many of us around here would take the risk."

"Yeah, I guess Forks and Reservation politics get a little complicated."

"Oh, yeah, there's that too, but you know…"

"No…"

Angela was speaking in half thoughts, the way people do when they're discussing something they'd rather not remember. An eerie sense of déjà vu came over me as I heard other voices around me.

"Bella, hi! You look magnificent! I love the earrings," a tinkling voice called out, interrupting Angela's divulgence.

"Alice, hi!"

Emmett came up behind me, pulling me into a big hug and lifting my feet off the ground. "How's my Bella-Cat?"

"Angela, what are you doing to your feet with those awful boots?"

"What? They're comfortable and punk rock, like me!" Angela defended, tossing her long, black hair over her shoulder.

The banter was playful and easy. These were people who'd grown up together, friends with a long history, but somehow, I didn't feel like an outsider. They welcomed me into their group like a long lost cousin they'd been hoping would find her way home.

"Rose doing okay?" I asked Emmett, and Angela and Alice debated the fashion choices of the attendees around us, who were talking more animatedly as more people arrived.

"Yeah, I took her back to my place, so she could watch 'Tru Blood' on demand while I came out; I should get back to her before too long. She's a big baby when she's sick."

"Well, she has to be so strong all of the time; it must be kind of a relief to just have to lie in bed."

"Maybe – I think she milks it though." He winked.

I heard snippets of conversations in the background -

"I don't know; I just don't think it's right."

"Well, the college wouldn't have allowed it if it wasn't all settled."

It seemed like there was something of a scandal over some of the art, but I couldn't tell what it was. I'd enjoyed seeing the work on display. There was pottery and paintings, even some jewelry and, of course, Jake's sculpture. Looking around, I saw him in a heated conversation with someone on the other side of the room. He looked frustrated, and his posture was bent, less dominating than usual. Somehow the shorter man he was speaking to made Jacob seem small.

My attention was redirected though as Angela whined, "Alice, I absolutely will not get lipstick tattooed on."

"You have like seventeen tattoos."

"Three!"

"Whatever! What's wrong with getting one that actually makes you look better?"

"Alice Cullen, you mind your own business, or I'm going to sneak into your apartment at night and shave your head."

The two small brunettes were in a fashion battle for their lives, and it didn't look like there was an easy resolution.

"Wanna walk around?" Emmett leaned down and placed a warm hand on my back.

"You're my hero," I laughed, beginning to stroll.

"So, Em, what's your favorite piece?" I asked as we each took a glass of champagne from the waiter walking around with a tray of glasses.

"Hmmm, well other than Jake's tree, of course…"

"Of course…"

"I'd have to say I like the watercolor of the pier."

"Really? I wouldn't guess you as the watercolor type."

"Oh, I don't know that I am; I just really love the water, and my Dad and I used to fish there all the time."

"Not anymore?"

"Nah, I've been way too busy."

"You should go again," I said, stopping to look at him and wishing I could have even one moment to do something with my Dad. "You should go and take Royce; he'd love it, and… those times are special."

"Wow, Bella, you really are a romantic, aren't you?"

"I'm a poet – didn't ya' know it?"

"Loser," he laughed, pushing me gently.

Another voice in the background said, "There's just no reason for all this; after everything that happened?"

"What's everyone going on about?" I asked Emmett after overhearing more of the hushed conversation from before.

"Oh, it's stupid; old shit people don't want to let die. Small towns love their scandals, you know?"

"Tell me."

"Nah, better for you to make your own way here, not get dragged into shit that don't matter. Which piece do you like?" he asked, smoothly distracting me from the unanswered question.

"I just can't get away from that tree; it's like it's alive."

"Jake's pretty talented, huh?"

"That's not even the right word, Em; it's like he gave birth to something. It's so vivid."

"Vivid's a good word, for the work and for Jake."

"Yeah," I agreed, spotting Jake again, who was now talking to Quil and Claire. "Come on." I took Emmett's hand and walked over to them to say hello.

The smile on my face fell though when I saw how Jacob was looking at me. His eyes were even narrower than usual, and his jaw was clenched, making him look almost menacing. I realized, quite shockingly, that Jacob looked frightening. He looked at me harshly and than down to where Emmett and I were holding hands. Emmett quickly dropped it and held both hands up as if in defense.

"Hey, man, no harm, no foul," he said mock-teasingly, but I could see an undercurrent of truth and… fear coming from Emmett.

"Yeah, yeah, I know that," Jacob said, shaking his head as if trying to dislodge something stuck in the recesses of his mind. "Sorry, man."

"S'all right," Emmett nodded to the others before making his way to the door, "I'm off to babysit the princess anyway. See you tomorrow, Bella."

"What was that, Jake? You jealous?" I half-teased, trying to erase the memory of the look on his face.

"Try not to be, but, you know, I just don't want to share you," he answered, wrapping an arm around my waist. It fit there smoothly, his large hand cupping my hipbone and pulling me closer to his side. My shoulder fit in right under the crook of his arm, and I could feel his pulse running along his skin.

"Q's still on the mud-wrestling idea."

"I decidedly think not."

"Come on, Bella, you and Claire would be so hot all covered in mud in bikinis."

"Quil, I'm pretty sure that would be illegal," I said, looking him in the eye. Claire flinched, and Jake's grip on my waist tightened. Clearly I'd crossed over into territory that was to be avoided, but I couldn't ignore that this girl was still a child, and not just that but my student.

"Hey, if you don't want to hang out with us…"

"I didn't say that; just that some things are probably better for when we're all over eighteen," I smiled my biggest smile, "like voting, who doesn't love a good gubernatorial race, am I right?"

Quil and Claire looked at me like I was on some kind of hallucinogen while Jacob laughed his warm, throaty laugh. "Only you, Bella," he chuckled, kissing me on the head again and making me swoon slightly under his attention.

So many people came to talk to Jacob that eventually I wandered off by myself, happy for a little silence after the din in the entry room. The library was small but well stocked; full of beautiful books and the smell of wood oil and book dust. I wandered the shelves, tracing the titles with my fingers, adoring them and caressing the words that came before me.

What would I give to have the art of Octavia Butler or the vision of Margaret Atwood? What would I give to have something with my name on it bound and displayed here with them? Again, I felt something just beyond reach, tasted something with just the tip of my tongue, unable to make out the complexities of flavor. The work I had been doing over the past two weeks was building, growing. It was cohesive and parts of a whole, but whatever it was that would hold it all together was still beyond my grasp.

"I love it back here," a soft voice said from the end of the aisle I was strolling down.

"Me too." I smiled at the kind face before me, something about Angela was kin.

"Everyone's starting to leave; come on, you don't want to get locked in back here."

"No, can't have that; don't want them to find me snuggling in the Sci-Fi section," I laughed to myself, earning a quizzical look from Angela.

"You're an odd duck," she said without cruelty.

"Says the girl with the lipstick tattoo."

"I do not have a lipstick tattoo! Damn that Alice."

Back in the main room, almost everyone was gone, and Jacob was leaning against a glass wall, looking up at his creation. His ankles were crossed in front of him, and his arms tight across his broad chest. I took him in, letting my eyes roam over his face without fear of him noticing. He was striking; so much power contained in his body and so much talent.

Male artists are almost all cut from the same emo mold, but Jacob was something different. He was out of time, out of place in the world. I had never heard him be anything but positive or confident. Something inside of Jacob was innately good. Can art come from goodness? Clearly my assumption that it could only come from pain and deprivation was wrong.

Slowly, he brought his eyes to meet me, and as I stood, across the room from him and in the shadow of his brilliance, I flushed under his gaze. I was pulled toward him, like there was a magnet in the center of my chest. The force of my attraction to him was unexpected but not unwelcome. The flush in my checks had spread through my chest, and as I came nearer, I felt the fabric on my shirt brush across my nipples, and the tightness of my jeans shift against my core.

His eyes never left mine as he stood to greet me, bringing his warm, soft lips down to mine without a word. And my resolve to remain unentangled, unfettered until I was certain of my future with Edward, disintegrated.

"Take me home?" I asked when his kiss slowed.

"Yeah, let's go," he agreed, taking my hand and leading me back to the parking lot for another kiss before getting on his bike.


	11. Chapter 11

I walked up the steps to the front door, my body still tingling from the excitement of being on the bike with Jake. We hadn't stopped touching each other since that last kiss in the parking lot of the college. We'd kissed until the lights turned off, making us laugh like teenagers. I'd kept my hands on his body at all times since then, afraid that if I lost contact with his warm skin he'd disappear.

His hand was in mine now as he walked up the steps behind me slowly. He was in no rush for tonight to go any faster than would happen naturally, and that alone was enough to let a girl know she was in for a good ride. I'd only ever slept with Edward. I'd never had a lover other than my first, and while making love to him was always special, I didn't know what it was like to be overwhelmed by a man. Edward was always so…thoughtful. He was much more comfortable with our cerebral relationship than he was with our carnal one.

I turned the key in the door and could feel the warmth radiating out from Jacob's body behind me, close enough to sense his presence, his aura touching me, but not close enough to actually touch. He leaned in and smelled my hair, nuzzling me slightly, and sighed.

Turning to him, I smiled and switched his hand to my other side, walking in the house backwards. "Wine?" I asked, letting go of him now that I had him securely in my house.

"Sure, sure," he said, sitting down in the living room.

I found a bottle of Shiraz Emmett and I had bought to go with a ruined lasagna experiment and two wine glasses. Opening the bottle didn't go well though. "Jake!" I called, having gotten half the cork stuck in neck of the bottle. "So much for sexy." I smiled as he walked into the room, laughing at my pout.

"Give it here," he offered lightly, pulling the rest of the cork out easily. "You can't rush it; gotta let her warm up." He stood close to me, making the hair on my arms stand up with the fire in his eyes.

"Mmmm," I ackowledged. Sauntering past him with the wine glasses in my hand, I turned my head to look over my shoulder. "Well?"

Where was all this coming from? I was a shy girl. I didn't flirt. I didn't date. I had been with Edward for so long and, really, with him it was so all or nothing from the beginning I never got my footing in the relationship. I was always playing catch-up, trying to guess what was coming next. Relaxing was not something I had practice with. And yet there was that swing in my step that made my ass shake when I knew Jake was watching…

He sat on the couch on the opposite end from me, pouring wine into the glasses I'd placed on the coffee table. I took mine from his hand with a smile and pulled my feet up onto the couch.

"Well, congratulations on tonight, Jacob."

"Thanks. I'm really glad you were there."

"I am too. What you made there… it was stunning." I was leaning toward him, taking my first sip of wine and watching him over the glass.

"So did you have fun? I know I had to schmooze a little."

"Yeah, I had a great time. I really like Angela and Alice, and Emmett is always great."

"Em is a good guy. I'm glad he and Rose got together; they're pretty much made for each other."

"What do you think? Does it work that way? Are we made for someone?" I asked, watching him bring his lips, those full lips, to his glass. The wine only increased the beauty of his mouth, staining it slightly red. It made him look like he'd been bitten, the blood rushing to the surface of his skin. And again I was struck by the desire to bite him, claw at him, mark him.

"I think it does; if it doesn't, it should," he said in his easy way.

"I don't know. I think… love is hard, you know."

"But, Bella, it shouldn't be; when it's right, it should just grow."

"That's just not how I've known it to be," I disagreed, looking down at the couch between us because I didn't want to let Edward in on tonight but felt an intense need to be completely honest with Jacob.

"Well, I don't know. I haven't been there, but, I like you. Actually, I like you a lot. And I don't find it hard." He smiled at me, his eyes sparkling and sincere as he scooted closer to me and leaned in to kiss me. It was a small kiss, just a peck really, but I crumbled under the weight of it.

"Jake…"

"Yeah?" he asked, his forehead leaning against mine.

"I like you too."

"Good."

"I just… I have to go see Edward next weekend."

"Oh…" He sat back up. "Yeah, I get it; no, I do. It's good." He set his glass down and looked at the ceiling, building a wall back up around himself. It was artifice though. Jacob was not meant to be walled off - he was meant to be free - and the creation of the wall caused him as much pain as the need for it.

"No, I… I don't think you do." I touched his shoulder and put my drink down on the coffee table. "Look at me."

"What, Bella?"

"I have to go; I have to… see him again, so I can move on and know that it's really done."

"Move on?" he said, meeting my eyes.

"Yeah, Jake… move on." I brought my lips up to his and wrapped my hand into his hair. I ran my fingers along the base of his neck, massaging the thick muscles as I kissed him softly and pulled myself up onto his lap. I sat astride him and pulled away to look in his eyes again.

"Bells, are you sure?"

"Yeah, I am."

"'Cause, look, I don't… I'm not the kind of guy who… this means something to me, okay?"

"You're amazing," I told him, bringing my mouth down to his, sucking on his lower lip and placing both of my hands on his face. I felt him then, hard and hot against my core, and I was reminded of the sensation I felt on the bike: a promise of something amazing to come.

He brought his hands up to my back, pushing up my shirt as he slowly massaged me, rubbing away any fears I had about taking this step with him. His hands were on my back and my waist, holding me still as I tried to rub against him. He kissed my neck, moving slowly, trailing his tongue along the muscles before working his way back up with soft kisses, too soft to quench the growing need in me.

I pushed down against him, sending quivering waves through me as he nipped at my ear and brought one hand around to the front of my shirt. He cupped my breast in his large, warm hand, massaging and rubbing it. His touch was firm but never rough as he kissed down to my neckline. My hand laced through his hair as my body released its desire.

I pulled his face back up to mine and brought my lips to meet his, our eyes locking. I looked past his eyes and into his soul and saw the hurt and fear that was there. As he looked at me, he recognized my pain, and we kissed, pushing it aside if just for tonight.

I was lost in his lips and smell, and I didn't notice him shift his weight until I was underneath him, his body pressing mine into the too soft couch. One hand next to my head and the other on my hip, he held himself above me as he looked down and pressed his erection against me, making me gasp.

I brought my hands up to his chest, watching the small changes in his face as he rubbed slowly against me until my breath caught and my eyes rolled into my head. As I arched back, he came down on top of me, pushing me down into the wire coils beneath me.

"Jake…" I moaned, somewhere between a plea and a prayer.

"Yeah, honey?" he whispered with a growl.

"Let's go upstairs."

"I don't want to move; I don't want to stop touching you."

"Come on." I giggled. "I'll race you."

He stood up and offered me his hand, bringing me into his arms as I found my footing, and he smiled at me. "You're going to be the death of me, aren't you?" he asked, not giving me a chance to answer before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder. "To the bed!" he announced, running up the stairs. My head bobbed up and down, making me dizzy with movement and laughter.

Upstairs, he kicked the door closed behind us and maneuvered his way to my room without knocking my head into any walls, which I might not have been able to manage if I was walking, so I was impressed. I was still laughing as he put me down and kissed me, knocking me back onto my bed.

"Hey!" I yelled, giggling again, "This is supposed to be romantic!"

"What, I'm not romantic?" he asked, tickling me and making me fall off the bed. I grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him off with me. He fell on top of me with his weight off balance, and I pushed my hands up his shirt, looking for his skin. He smiled down at me before leaning up and pulling the shirt off in one fluid motion.

His body was magnificent. Whatever workout he made Emmett do was worth every minute because the man before me was, well, as Angela put it, a fine specimen of man-meat. He was ripped, all of his abs taut and defined. His chest was deep and broad, glowing in the light of my bedside lamp.

I felt the warmth of his body as he leaned down to me and kissed my nose.

He kneeled before me, one leg between mine, and slowly unbuttoned my lace top. He ran his fingers along the curve of my breasts as he slowly exposed me, his eyes boring into my body. As he unbuttoned the last one, he swept one palm along my stomach and up between my breasts. Looking at me, his hand gently pushing against me, he stole a moment in time to savor our connection. I could feel him inside me, pouring himself and all the things he couldn't say into my soul.

"Jake," I whispered, opening my arms to him and beckoning him to me.

His hand slipped under my bra as he came down to meet my lips, warmth and friction skimming the sensitive skin of my nipples and making me arch up against him. I thrust my tongue at him as he lowered himself against me, his hipbone lined up perfectly with my core. I could feel the length of him against my thigh as I wrapped my arms around his strong back and pulled myself up to him.

I let go of his mouth and pulled the skin of his neck into my mouth harshly, making him moan with pleasure. His skin was warm and smooth; he tasted sweet and salty, like taffy. I licked and sucked at him as he ground against me, his hand grabbing me roughly now and pulling at my breast. As I worked my way down his neck, his shoulder was strong, and I bit down hard, bringing my teeth against him and dragging along his skin.

"Fuck…" he moaned as I bit him again, scratching my nails down his back.

His knee came up between my legs, forcing them apart as he repositioned himself over me. He had both legs between my thighs now, and just as I started to murmur my complaint, he brought himself down against me. He was hard and big; I couldn't wait to see him, touch him, suck him. My hands moved down his back and around to the front of his pants, scratching and massaging as they went.

His buckle came undone easily, and his jeans were willing to be relieved of the job of containing him; he was too big for their confines. I felt the tip of him, so smooth, sticking out of the band of his underwear. The heat against my fingers was searing.

He stopped breathing and his eyes closed as he hovered above me, and my hands worked their way into his boxer briefs, freeing him. I still hadn't touched him, and as much as I was dying to feel him in my hand, there was something empowering about torturing him this way. The look on his face was one of ecstasy and anticipation. I knew it was taking all of his will power not to just grab me and have his way, but now, my hands against his skin, fingers skirting the edges of his fine pubic hair, I was completely in control.

I ran my hands lower, feeling the strength of his upper thighs and parting his legs slightly with my fingers. He inhaled sharply and clenched his jaw as I ran my fingers along his testicles. I cupped him and squeezed gently, enjoying the soft, tender skin. I pulled him up, grabbing as much of him into my hands as I could before letting one hand work its way up and wrap against the base of his cock.

He jumped as I stroked him slowly, feeling how thick and long he was. My legs were wrapped around his, pulling him closer to me as my hands continued to explore him.

"Bells…" he breathed, opening his eyes and looking down at me with nothing to hide the lust and passion.

Removing my hands from him, I pushed his jeans and boxers down off his hips, trying to move them along with my feet as he stood up above me and took them off. Standing before me, completely naked, was all 6'2" of Jacob Black. His cock stood out at an impossible angle, pulsing with its need for me and defying gravity with its mere existence.

"Bella, stand up," he said, and my body obeyed. My mind was unable to form coherent thoughts as my eyes trailed along his thighs. As I kneeled to stand up, I reached out to him, kissing his hip, sucking on his skin, and letting my hands wrap around and grab his firm, strong ass. I kissed closer now, next to him, on the other side of him, and then ran my tongue along the length of him, causing his entire body to shudder against me.

I glanced up and smiled to see the look of adoration in his eyes before taking the head of him into my mouth. I twirled my tongue around it, earning a moan from Jacob as his hand came down on my head. Sucking softly at first, I experimented with how much of him I could pull inside of me; he was so thick, stretching my lips to their limit. I worked my way along him, sucking and licking as I went, getting him wet and then pulling back, dragging my tongue firmly behind me.

Strangled sounds were coming from above me as Jacob's hips moved involuntarily and his grip on my hair tightened. I had never let Edward come in my mouth, but for some reason, I was dying to know what Jacob tasted like. I dug my nails into his ass, pulling him against me, and stood up taller on my knees before taking as much of him into me as I could. I could feel the gag reflex begin, but I fought it and took in more of him, filling my mouth with heat and fire. I was a sword swallower, a fire eater, and I wanted all of him.

I sucked at him, pulling away until he was almost out of my mouth, and then, without a thought, I nipped at the tip of his penis, digging my teeth in gently and firmly before pulling him fully into my mouth again, not taking time to savor it. I sucked and pulled on him, bringing my hand around to grab his balls firmly.

"Fuck!" he cried above me, his hips moving in rhythm with his hand on my head; he was commanding me, directing the speed and depth of my mouth. I sucked and nipped, letting my tongue apply pressure along the underside of his cock while I clawed his ass and palmed his balls.

"Bella, Bella, fuck…" he gasped, and I hung on, even as he tried to pull away; I clung to him like my life depended on it, pulling him into me, desperate to feel him come in me.

"I…do you want me to… I…" he stammered, and I released his ass, bringing my hand up against his abs and feeling the outline of his strong muscles until my hand was on his chest, at the center of his body, pushing against him and telling him without words how much I wanted this.

He screamed as he released into me, a bellowing sound of freedom and submission. He was hot and salty in my mouth, but I swallowed him quickly, sucking until I was sure I had every drop he had to give. The hand that had been on his balls was on his hip now as I kissed his softening cock, still licking and suckling as I went.

He shook above me, trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. His hand released me and pulled me up by my shoulders to stand with him. Powerful arms wrapped around me as he sighed into my hair and relaxed into me. I'd never realized how much of himself he held back until the moment he fully relaxed.

"Bells, that was…"

"Shhh," I whispered into his neck as I kissed him, unable to keep my mouth from his skin. He held onto me tightly, his arms gripping me to him and crushing me against his body so firmly, and I loved every moment of it.

Pulling away, he looked at me and kissed me, sweetly pulling my lip into his mouth and then languidly licking my lips with his tongue. His hands roamed my back and my ass as we kissed, bringing me to a point of sensory overload that allowed me to stop thinking. I clung to him as we walked toward my futon, kissing and nipping with every step. My moans and whimpers got louder as he undid my bra.

My nipples were on fire, desperate to be touched by him again, and the exposure to the cool night air was torture. I pushed my chest against him, gasping at the heat against my sensitive skin. When I felt the bed behind me, I pulled away from him, causing a moment of panic to flash in his eyes before he realized I was unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down.

As I stripped before him, his lust fueled my confidence. My body had never been anything spectacular - small and curvy, I was average in size and beauty - but his gaze was so full of lust, so passionate, that I felt sexy and delicious. I felt the way he saw me, and I loved it.

I sat back on the bed as he leaned over me, his eyes draping across my skin, more sensual than any feather's touch. He sat beside me and touched me lightly. Starting with my neck, he traced the lines of my muscles, across my shoulder and down my arm. He stroked the inner side of my elbow and down to my wrist, picking it up and bringing it to his mouth to kiss. Warm kisses against the inside of my wrist left me breathless. He kissed my hand and each finger before taking the first one into his mouth. He sucked on it long and hard, making me gasp with the unexpected sensation that ran straight through my body to my core. If only he would do that somewhere else…

His eyes held mine as he sucked one finger after the next, holding my wrist in his hand. "Lay down," he directed, his voice so low it was barely audible. I nodded and lay before him, naked and exposed.

He kissed his way up my arm, licking along my neck until he came to my ear. I shivered as he breathed against me, bringing his naked body, so hot, to lie next to me on his side. I trembled with the desire to touch him, but I held still. His hand trailed along my other shoulder and down my arm, making my head roll with pleasure.

Slowly, his light touches came to my chest and ran back and forth along the top of my breasts, coming lower and lower until his hand rested again at the center of my chest.

"Jake," I begged, shaking with the effort to hold still. He looked at my body, smiling, taking it all in, and making the wetness between my legs increase until I could feel it against my thighs. I ached to be touched.

His hand came around and cupped my breast firmly as he used two fingers to pinch and rub my nipple; I bucked against him, bringing my face to his, unable to remain immobile any longer. I could feel him smiling against me as he kissed me and pushed me back down onto the bed with his mouth. I whined when he pulled his mouth from mine until I felt where he was going.

His mouth surrounded my right breast, making me shudder and close my eyes in ecstasy. He suckled and flicked at me with his tongue, pulling my nipple into his mouth long and hard. I threaded my fingers into his short hair and pulled him against me, wanting him to inhale me, devour me, anything but stop.

His other hand left my breast and moved its way to my hip, which was bucking and trying to wrap around his body wildly. "Settle down now, killer," he chuckled, looking up at me with a smirk. I could tell he was thoroughly enjoying my reaction to him.

"Oh, God… you're killing me," I panted as he brought his mouth to my other breast and rolled slightly on top of me, pressing his reinvigorated erection against my thigh but giving me nothing to relieve my need. His leg was draped over mine, and he rubbed himself against me, suckling and murmuring his pleasure as I bucked and writhed, desperate for release. "Please, Jake," I begged again; I needed to be touched.

And in answer to my prayers, he slid his fingers from my hip, along my lower abdomen, leaving muscles spasming in his wake, until he was at my cunt. His fingers ran through the downy hair there before he slid one long finger between my lips. "Oh, my God!" I screamed and lifted to him, making him chuckle softly. He released my breast and brought his lips to my neck, sucking on the skin there as his finger explored my folds.

"So soft… so wet…" he whispered, spreading me open. His fingers were smooth against me, stroking up and down before firmly passing over my clit and then leaving it again, which brought me higher and higher with every touch.

"Oh my…" I said, closing my eyes and gripping the headboard. I moved myself up slightly, unconsciously trying to escape his fingers but desperately never wanting it to stop. Suddenly, I was split open, his long finger dipping deep inside me and rubbing against my inner wall firmly. I opened my eyes and looked at him in shock as a wave of pleasure passed over me. When he brought his thumb down on my clit, pushing on it hard and rolling over it back and forth in time with the two fingers now thrusting inside of me, I screamed, wrapping my arms around him and digging my nails against his back.

"Jake… Oh, fuck!" I wailed, riding his fingers, thrusting against him, pushing myself into him and throwing my head back without thought. He stayed with me, strong and sure of himself. I was not getting away from him, no matter how I thrashed, and that alone gave me permission to ride my orgasm out to its full completion.

Quivering with the waves that passed over me, I felt my body clench down on his fingers inside of me as I pushed myself against his thumb harder. I was screaming under his hand as his other pinned my back now. His body kept me from rolling away as I lost myself to the final throws of pleasure.

I was breathing hard, feeling the last of the tremors run through my body as he pulled his fingers out of me. "Baby, you are so beautiful." He looked at me softly.

"That was wonderful," I sighed. "I've never… Nothing like that; I've never felt anything like that." I leaned in to kiss him, wrapping my shivering body around his.

"I'm so glad." He smiled sweetly as he kissed me. But I could still feel his erection twitching against me. I knew that he wouldn't push it, but I wanted to… I _needed_ to feel him inside me. I was tired and blissful, but still, I knew that making love to him was something that I wanted.

We kissed, and our tongues were playful and sweet as I slid my hand down his side, along the line of the muscle to his groin, down to his length. "I want you," I said, throwing a leg over him and arching my soft core against him.

"I want you too," he breathed, leaning in and over me. I rolled onto my back, bringing him with me so that he was positioned between my legs with his weight on his arms as he looked down at me. I gazed at the space between our bodies, looking at the beauty of his dark skin against mine. I brought my hand up to his face and cupped his cheek, pausing before running it down the length of his body.

"You have goosebumps!" I gasped, concerned.

"No, baby, I just... God, it's you!" he said, making me smile as my hand made its way between us. I grabbed onto his cock and tilted my hips, guiding him to me. He was burning against me, and I dragged his tip along my lips, loving the feeling of his smooth, soft skin against me.

"Bella," he moaned, rolling his hips forward and begging me to give him passage, "should I get… I mean, I have condoms."

But as he said it, I knew I didn't want that; I didn't want a barrier between us. I wanted nothing but his skin on me, inside me, a part of me.

I placed him in the right spot and lifted my hips, opening myself onto him and making him gasp and look at me in question. I nodded, and he pushed into me slowly, firmly, stretching my lips to the limit of what they could take. It seared with a painful stretch that quickly adjusted to pleasure as he pushed farther and farther into me, reaching up and against my limit.

"You're so perfect," he breathed, holding still deep inside me. I could feel his cock twitch with desire to continue as he looked down at me, sweat beading on his body.

"Make love to me," I said, reaching my arms around his neck and pulling him down to me. "I want to feel you. I want to feel your weight on me. I want to feel you in me. I want you."

"Bella," he moaned again as he began rocking his hips against me. Every thrust stretched me anew, and I could feel the broadness of his head stroking against me. He moved slowly, sweetly, picking up his pace only in response to my body's reactions. I wrapped a leg around his hip, my other foot planted on the back of his leg for leverage as I met each of his movements.

Our force grew, moving together, moaning with every motion. I had my hands above my head now, steadying me against the headboard and meeting his building thrusts with strength and desire. He took the leg that had been wrapped around him and bent it up under his chest, making us both groan with the pleasure of a new sensation. He hit up against my inner wall, pushing against something that had never been accessed before.

His pace increased, slamming me into the futon and pushing me further and further into insanity's bliss. Screaming, I raked my fingers down his back, causing him to lean back and roar as he drove into me. I could no longer meet his speed or desire, and I released control to him, hanging on to him for salvation as he drove us both harder and faster, pulling something out from deep inside of me. I screamed his name as he lifted my ass up to him, giving him leverage over me to hold me right where he wanted my body. I clung to his arms, both of us overwhelmed as the world blurred out of focus and all that was left was the burning, aching need for him.

He pulsed inside me and stroked against me, changing the angle and making my vision fade out. Just as I thought I couldn't take any more, he slammed me back down onto the bed hard and reached his hand between us, pressing against my clit as he thrust solidly into me, holding us both on the brink of the moment until I couldn't take it anymore, and I moved involuntarily against him, screaming and trying to roll away from him.

"Oh my fuck, fuck, fuck!" I screamed as my body convulsed around him, pulling on him and wailing in pleasure.

I heard him above me as he bellowed out my name and slammed his hand into the wall behind the futon; he pulsed inside of me, filling me, releasing himself into my care.

We lay, bodies entwined, silent except for the racing of our hearts and panting of our breath. I had never experienced anything as raw and magnificent as what had just happened with Jake. Was it just the excitement of the first time, or could there be something about him, something about us, that brought out that passion? I rolled back to him as he opened his eyes, sleep and passion clouding my vision.

I smiled at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, the sweat rolling off of him, and his short fluffy hair. His breathing was still ragged, but his face and body were relaxed. I don't know that I'd ever seen him completely let go before - he always seemed so at ease - but now I could see the vulnerability that he hid in his sweet, earnest eyes. He twitched inside of me, reminding me that we were still connected, and I smiled happily at him.

"You're beautiful," he said.

"You're drooling." I laughed quietly, kissing him on the nose.

"Be nice, or I'll pull out."

"You wouldn't," I pouted, not wanting the contact to end.

"No, I probably wouldn't," he admitted with open vulnerability. "That was really amazing, Bella."

"Yeah, it was."

"I…it's been a while since I've been with anyone, but that was…really amazing."

"Really?" I asked, snuggling closer to him and letting the droplets of our sweat mingle and merge. "Mr. Sexy Mechanic hasn't gotten any for a while?"

"Come on, Bella, I think you know I'm not like that."

"I do." I kissed his chest. "How long?"

He sighed. "Two years."

"Seriously?" I sat up, not thinking in my shock, and dislodged our connection.

"What? I was in the military." He laughed.

"Still, I don't think that's healthy." I shivered, the air cooling my naked skin now that I was away from him.

"Hmmm, you're right. I might need to make up for lost time," he said, a wicked grin on his handsome face.

"Yeah," I agreed, standing up on the futon by using the top of his head for leverage, "but not until I can walk right again." I ruffled his hair and stepped over him and onto the floor. I grabbed his shirt from the ground, throwing it on before making my way to the bathroom.

When I came back, he'd made my bed nicely, folding down the top half, and had his underwear on. As sexy as he'd been naked, Jake in just his black boxer briefs was a sight to behold; an amber god standing in the middle of my bedroom with his jeans in his hand…

I stopped, feeling the ground falling beneath me as my happiness seeped out of my pores, leaving me withered and lifeless. "You're leaving," I said flatly, trying to keep from betraying my disappointment. All I needed was another man in the world who knows the pain he'd caused by leaving.

"I…wait…what?"

"You're leaving! Fine, that's…okay…sure, here." I struggled to take his shirt off, getting tangled up in my attempts to free my arms.

"No, stop it, Bella, you're going to hurt yourself." He laughed. He fucking laughed at me!

"Shut up, Jacob!" I smacked him in the chest, my hands still deep inside the arms of his shirt making me look like a small child having a tantrum. My anger, hurt, and embarrassment raged in competition as he laughed again.

"Stop it, come on, I was just folding my jeans. I'm not going unless you want me to. Come on, you look ridiculous flailing around like that." He held onto me, smiling into my hair. "I'm glad you don't want me to leave." Warm hands stroked and relaxed my back.

I bit on my lip, ashamed of my open admission of hurt but too relieved that he wasn't leaving to say anything. "I'm tired," I murmured into his chest, relief leaving exhaustion in its wake. My thighs ached, and my insides burned slightly, reminding me of him being inside me with every movement. It was late and well past my bedtime.

"Okay, honey, let me set the alarm on my phone, so I can call someone to check on my dad in the morning, and we'll go to sleep." He kissed my head.

I climbed into bed as he got his phone from his pocket and set it on the bedside table, after setting it and turning off the lamp. I hadn't slept with anyone next to me in so long, but he curled up behind me, slipping his arm under my shirt and resting his hand along my front between my breasts. He pulled me tight to him and kissed my exposed neck. My body melted into his chest, my ass perfectly outlined by his body and our legs intertwined as I drifted to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

_be–beep, be–beep, be–beep._

I was roused from a warm sleep by the sound of Jacob's phone alarm. Rolling toward the noise, I hoped to find a warm boy to snuggle into, but I found only his back. He was lying on his side, dialing the phone. I watched from my pillow, running my hand up his back and over his shoulder, down his side to his hip. His skin was soft and slightly damp, like he'd been sleeping hard.

"Hey, Paul, it's me… yeah, I know… Look, can you swing by my place and just make sure my dad's okay? No, no, give me a call if he needs anything and make sure he eats, okay? Yeah…Thanks, brother… Yeah," he chuckled into his phone. "Yeah, she is."

I leaned in and kissed his back, chewing on the thick muscle running up his spine, letting my hand wind around his middle, feeling my way along his chiseled abs, and pulling him back down into the bed.

"Okay, man, I gotta go, okay? Thanks… okay… later."

"What do you think you're doing back there, woman?" Jake asked with a smile, setting his phone down and rolling towards me.

"Oh, I could stop," I teased, rolling away.

"No, you don't," he said into my hair, snaking his arm around my hips and pulling me back against him. His erection, already hot and hard, pressed against my ass. His hand, flat against my stomach, held me firmly as he rubbed himself along me, breathing into my ear. "You woke up playful."

"Well, you're such a great toy."

"Really?" He kissed my neck, sucking on me with force and grinding harder. His hand came up under the shirt to my breast, taking hold of it and kneading my flesh roughly. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back against him, inhaling the smell of sleep and sweat coming off of him.

"I like you sleeping in my shirt."

"I like you sleeping in my bed," I moaned as his hand roamed from my breast down my abdomen, making its way lower, leaving heat and tingles of excitement as it went until _yes_…

"Jake…" I sighed as his fingers rubbed at my clit, pulling on the skin there and waking up the parts of me that had been asleep until he touched me last night. His hand continued rubbing my mound, and his fingers slipped into my folds, stroking me, bringing my wetness up and against my clit, and causing me to whimper.

"I like how fast you get wet for me," he growled into my neck before bringing his teeth down, scraping them along the sensitive skin, all the while rubbing against me with his hand and his cock. I felt like I was surrounded, encapsulated in Jake's body.

He slipped a finger inside of me, making me gasp at the sudden penetration. "More…" I begged, wanting him to fill me again. He kept rubbing at me though, making no moves toward entering me again. His mouth was everywhere, kissing my throat, the base of my neck, my shoulder; he chewed on my flesh while grinding himself against me.

"Take this off." He pulled his hand away from my core to remove my shirt. Sitting up, I complied as quickly as I could before turning towards him. His eyes were dark in the morning light, and the sparkle there was exciting. He came up to meet me, pulling me back down into the bed as he kissed me.

His hand explored my now-naked body, grabbing at me, pulling me to him and kneading my skin. I had never been handled so roughly, and I found that his passion ignited something in me. I had excited him to this point. He couldn't control himself, couldn't get enough of me into his hand or mouth. He needed me, wanted me. And the power I felt as I relished his passion was titillating.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. I bit his lip when he tried to pull away, keeping him with me. Smiling, he came back, rolling on top of me, thrusting his tongue deep into my mouth, and letting me suck on it as he rocked his hips against mine; the cotton of his underwear created a satisfying friction.

My hands stroked his body, feeling the muscles on his sides, sliding up his back, and clutching his shoulder blades as he moved his mouth to my collar bone and kissed his way down my body. Hot, open-mouthed caresses covered my breasts, making me moan when he pulled my nipple into his mouth. I pushed myself up against him, knowing I was hot and wet against his abdomen.

My eyelids fluttered as his hands moved to my hips, and he began kissing his way lower, down the line of my stomach, swirling his tongue around my belly button and lower…

He slipped one arm under my upper thighs, making me open my legs further as he positioned himself between my legs. He was kissing my mound now, firmly pressing against my folds. Whimpering, I bent my other leg, allowing him to position himself before me. "You smell delicious," was the last thing I heard before his tongue split me open, running along me slowly and making his way up to my core.

When he reached my nub, he licked it solidly with a flat, firm tongue over and over until I was clutching the bed sheets and lifting my ass to meet his face. I saw streaks of color behind my eyelids as he sucked me into his mouth, pulling me softly. He flicked his tongue over me as he suckled my clit, making it burn and stretch.

I felt him moan against me as I bucked into him. I don't know where his hands had been, but as he was building me higher and higher, suckling and twirling my clit in his mouth, he brought his fingers to my opening, pushing one, two, and finally, three fingers inside of me, stretching me with his large fingers. I was lost, my body taking over all thought processes. I glided over his fingers as he slipped them in and out of me, angling them to massage my most sensitive wall, all the while never losing his hold on my clit.

Jacob Black was an artist. He rode me with the patience and skill of a musician while controlling me, commanding my body with the confidence of a man. His mouth was soft, his lips full - like they were designed to kiss me - his fingers long and lean, and his body delicious and strong. Jake was everything I could have hoped for in a lover, and he enjoyed every moment of fulfilling that role.

I swelled under his control, my body pulsing its building release until I screamed, rising off the bed in ecstasy. He slowly slid his fingers out of me, making me ache with the absence of him, as he kissed my clit, licking and kissing sweetly until my breath returned to me.

Looking down at him, my creamy legs thrown over his shoulders, his eyes heavy with lust and his mouth glistening with the flavor of me, I knew I needed to be careful with him. My heart was still broken, and it would be so easy, _so_ easy, to fall into this amazing man before it was healed. There was still so much I didn't know about him, so much I didn't know about _me_… The risk was worth it, for him, but still, I was acutely aware of the danger staring up at me from between my legs, hunger and need coming off of him in waves.

He moved out from between my legs, wiping his mouth roughly with his hand and making me quiver again at the thought of what he'd just done to me. "Can I be in you?" he asked huskily, his words hard to hear but his intent clear.

"Please." I dragged my legs along his body as he came to hover above me, pushing down his boxer briefs quickly. Kicking them off, he leaned down, his body just inches from mine with my legs hiked up around his hips. I felt the tip of him against me, making me shudder with the soft heat on my tender skin. He moved against me, sliding his tip along my lips, opening me, spreading me out, and lubricating himself with my wetness that was returning now in anticipation of feeling him inside me.

My hands against his chest, nails digging into his pectoral muscles, I raised my body up to kiss him. His eyes never left mine. As I brought my lips to his, he thrust gently, inserting the head of his cock inside me perfectly. Already he knew my body so well; no need to guide him in and no need to speak.

I quivered, dropping back onto my pillow. He held perfectly still, his eyes closed now as we both lost ourselves in the sensations building from our connection. I ran my hands down his arms and began moving against him. Slowly, I tilted my hips up, pushing myself farther onto him and feeling the burn from his thickness building. I watched as he shuddered, eyes still closed, not moving above me.

I slipped one hand under his, intertwining our fingers as I continued to move, scooting lower under him. Jacob lowered his hips to meet mine, immersing himself completely in me and stretching me open with a firm thrust, and opened his eyes. Kissing me, he lowered his weight onto me, letting me feel the full length of him against me.

One pair of hands still entangled, I brought my other down to his side. He buried his head into my neck as he moved inside me, pushing deep and then pulling almost all of the way out over and over and over and over. Every thrust stretched me anew, and every withdrawal was heaven as the ridge of his head ran against my inner walls.

Suddenly, he pulled our hands down and grabbed my other hand as well, putting his full weight onto his knees and my body. He spread his legs, forcing mine apart even farther. Using our hands to brace him, he increased his speed. My body bucked underneath him, straining against the hold he had on my hands. Head back, legs spread, my body was under his spell as he forced me to the brink of my building orgasm.

Letting go of my hands, Jacob wrapped both arms around me, holding me tight. Our hips were working in unison, frantically pushing us higher and higher. I had my hands on his ass, clawing at him as I looked for anything to hold onto as my sanity cascaded down. We came together, his name on my lips coming out as a strangled cry.

Draped across each other, arms and legs intertwined haphazardly, Jacob and I lay in my ten-year-old futon breathing heavily. My body still quivered and clamped down on him as the last aftershocks of my orgasm passed through me. He raised his arm above his head, moving closer to me, so I could rest on his chest. Sliding my body along him, I wrapped myself up against his warm skin. I fit here like it was made for me; smiling contentedly, I drew patterns on his chest with my fingers.

Above us, I heard the rain begin to fall, soothing me with the gentle _ping_ _ping_ _ping_ on the tin roof above us.

"Morning," he murmured into my hair.

"Morning," I repeated, kissing his chest.

"I could get used to waking up like this."

"Hmmm, me too."

"You hungry, Bells?"

"Yeah. Hey, when did you start calling me Bells?"

"Oh, uh, I didn't realize I did…"

"That's what my dad used to call me…" I smiled at the memory.

"Oh, I didn't mean… I could stop."

"No, I like it. It's sweet."

"Hmmm… like you." His stomach growled loudly.

"Come on," I giggled, "let's find something to eat."

I pulled his shirt back on, earning a sideways smile from Jacob before he pulled on his underwear and jeans. Downstairs, I sat on the counter while he hunted in the refrigerator, looking for anything to make for breakfast.

"Okay, there's one egg, three pieces of bread and left-over Chinese food."

"Rose, doesn't cook."

"I can see that, but do you ever shop?"

"Emmett was doing it. I guess it's my turn, but I've been busy." I raised an eyebrow, letting him know he was the reason for my household neglect.

"All right, I guess I can't complain too much then." He smiled, coming to stand between my legs and letting his hands slip under the too big shirt and rest on the top of my thighs. "Seems we have to hunt and forage for our breakfast."

"Mmm, twigs and berries?"

"Maybe I could catch a squirrel," he said, leaning in to kiss me.

"Or a rabbit…" I whispered as we kissed. His hand slipped between my legs, his thumb rubbing against my…

"HOLY SHIT!" I heard before a thump thump thump out in the living room. "Don't go in there, Em; your eyes will never recover!" Rosalie yelled.

"We got caught," Jake chuckled, leaning his forehead against mine.

My blush was so deep it was almost painful, and I pushed him back and hopped off the counter. As I walked out, Rose scowled at me. "Now I'm going to have to bleach the _entire_ kitchen."

"Chill, Blondie; no bodily fluids were spilled in there," Jake shot back, making my jaw drop.

"Cover yourself up, please."

"Does my being half naked bother you?"

"Cut it out, you two," Emmett laughed as I looked on in shock. "So I guess we don't have to ask what you did last night, Bella."

If my blush could have gotten any deeper, it would have. As it was, I think the blood had actually started to seep out of the pours on my cheeks, leaving bloody splotches on my skin.

"I'm going to go upstairs," I mumbled, head down, biting my lip and holding down the edges of Jake's shirt to cover as much of myself as I could.

"Take your mutt with you," Rose called.

"Hey, Rosie," Jake said, walking up the stairs.

"Don't call me that."

"What do you call a smart blonde? A golden retriever!" he called over his shoulder.

"Some day I'm going to kick your ass, Black."

"Sure, sure," he laughed, coming into my living room extremely pleased with himself.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked, turning on him.

"What? Rose is so uptight; sometimes she needs a good ribbing."

"Yeah, well, I have to _live_ here."

"Okay, okay. I'll try to play nice." He laughed warmly.

"Thank you."

"Come on," he bundled me up into his arms, "let me take you out for breakfast; we'll go to the diner and maybe stop by the grocery store while we're out. You need more food in this house."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I have a big appetite."

"Oh, so you're planning on spending a lot of time here then?"

"If you'll let me," he said, bringing his finger to my chin and lifting my face to kiss my lips. I kissed him back, quickly, before pulling away and walking to my bedroom to slip on some clothes. "I'm gonna need that shirt back." He trailed after me.

Downstairs, Rosalie was curled up on the couch, still not feeling well, while Emmett was fussing with the DVD player, trying to get something to play.

"Rose, we're gonna go into town. You need anything?"

"No, Bella, I'm fine." Her voice was nasal with congestion.

"Okay, well, call if you think of anything, okay?"

"Hey, Rose."

"What, Jake?" she asked, exacerbated.

"How do you drown a blonde?"

"Seriously? Are you like fourteen?"

"Glue a mirror to the bottom of a pool," he guffawed, having thoroughly entertained himself with that one.

"Fuck off," she called, throwing her box of tissues at him and laughing.

Outside, I climbed into the driver's side of my truck, earning a scowl from Jacob, and started the engine. Sara Bareilles blared out of the radio, making Jake wince.

"What is this?"

"Chick music."

"Clearly," he laughed, opening the glove compartment and riffling through my CDs until he found something to his liking. I drove toward town, a smile on my face, comfortable in the temporary silence in the truck. Being with Jacob was so easy; it flowed like water trailing down your skin in the shower, warm and refreshing. He put in The White Stripes and sat back, reaching over to place his hand on my thigh.

The contact was warm. I could feel the outline of his hand against my leg; the places he touched felt more alive than the rest of me. I glanced over to see him smiling out the window, tapping his foot to the music. The rain was falling steadily outside, the windshield wipers sailing back and forth across my vision. It was the end of September in Forks, Washington, and all was right in the world.

The diner was packed this morning; we were late enough that the after-church crowd was there in full effect. The news of a ten minute wait didn't faze us though; I was happily tucked into Jacob's side, his hand on my hip. When we finally sat down it was at a booth next to a window. I watched the rain slide down the window in wide sheets, separating into droplets before reconnecting into a stream.

"Mornin'," the waitress said, eyes studying me intensely.

"Morning!" I chirped.

"Coffee?"

"That'd be great." I smiled cheerfully before looking over at Jacob.

His eyes were trained on the table, his jaw hard.

"You?" she asked with a sneer, and layer of ice covered our table from her tone.

"Sure," he said softly, not lifting his eyes from the stained Formica he was studying intently.

She huffed quietly, looking down at him and almost visibly willing him to look at her. "Fine," she said, turning on her heel.

"Jake?" I asked quietly, but his focus on the table was too intense to be broken.

The waitress returned quickly, her hair pulled up into a high pony-tail and her blue eyes tracked on Jacob. She placed our mugs on the table, pouring the coffee silently. Jacob was lost in his contemplation.

"What'll you have?" she asked me, not unpleasantly but certainly without the usual warmth of wait staff.

"Umm, yogurt with granola and a banana."

She turned and walked away without asking Jake for his order. "Wait!" I called after her. When she returned, Jake was still too far away to be reached, so I kicked him under the table. "Jake, are you gonna order?"

"Oh, I know what he wants," she said, a swagger in her step as she turned from us and walked away.

"Jacob." I leaned across the table, but his eyes never left the spot he was entranced by.

"Jake!" I tried louder, and his shoulders fell, but his eyes never lifted to mine.

"Fine…" I said, picking up my coffee and sipping it as I watched the rain out the window. Each droplet was falling at full velocity now, hitting the window and ground with the force of a bomb, small plumes of water rising from the impact. I stretched my foot out, not looking at him, and placed it on top of his, trying to reconnect to him through contact if he wouldn't look at me. Something had gotten deep under his skin, and it revolved around our waitress.

Cars drove by, plumes of water rising at their sides as the rain continued its onslaught. The road had a shallow layer of water covering it, but I knew that soon it would run off, soaking into the ground, nourishing the plants and trees at their source.

Our food came, and after our waitress placed our orders in front of us - Jacob having gotten an omelet of some sort and bacon - she sat next to me without a word.

"So, is this how we're going to do this?" she asked, looking at Jacob as if they were sitting here alone. His eyes remained locked in position, staring through the food she'd brought him to the coffee stain beneath.

"Nice, Jake, really. I mean, this is how I see you again? I heard you got out, but I thought… But instead you're here where I work with some girl, and now you won't even talk to me?"

He shrugged, eyes locked, and moved his foot away from mine. "I didn't know you worked here," he said, barely audible.

"But you knew where I lived! You've been home for, what? Three months now!" She was leaning across the table at him, seething.

"What the fuck is going on?" I hissed. I'd had enough; my patience was worn thin with his silence and her attitude.

"Oh, yeah, hi, I'm Jessica." The waitress turned on me, the ice in her eyes cold. "Jake may have told you about me, Jessica Stanley. I was supposed to be Jessica Black by now, but Jake fucked that one up nicely, didn't you, baby?" Venom dripped from every word.

Jacob flinched, his entire body shrinking back from her words and his eyes immobile.

Jessica stood up in one fluid motion. "Fuck you, Jacob. Enjoy your breakfast." She smiled broadly, cruelty emanating from her.

"Jacob."

…

…

…

"Jacob!"

…

…

…

"Jake, you will talk to me now, or I'm getting up and leaving you here, and you're not to follow me."

…

…

…

"Fine," I said, standing up, tears stinging my eyes as I walked past him. At the last possible moment, his hand shot out and grabbed my arm.

"Don't…don't go," he whispered.

"And why not, Jake? Are you going to say anything about what just happened?"

"I…I can't… okay…I…" He looked up at me, all the vulnerability from the night before laid out before me. "Please…"

I took a deep breath before turning and sitting back down. He picked up his coffee and held it between both hands.

"I'm allergic to mushrooms," he said quixotically.

"Okay…"

He picked up his fork and sliced the omelet in half to reveal that it was full of mushrooms.

"Wow…she really hates you."

"She has her reasons."

"Are you going to tell me any of them?"

"Honestly, I wasn't…but…"

"Why? Why weren't you going to?" I felt the anger rising in my chest. There was something about him, something bad that people had been alluding to since I met him that he had no intention of sharing with me. "I think I have a right to know who you are."

"Because it's not who I _am,_" he said more forcefully than I'd expected, his eyes pleading with me. "I'm more than this; I'm more than what people around here remember…" He put his coffee down and ran a hand through his still-disheveled morning hair.

"Jake, I'm not from here, and I don't like secrets."

"Fuck, Bella," he dropped his head again, "don't do this."

"I want to go home," I sighed, standing up. "Are you coming?"

I walked out, assuming he followed behind me and hoping he paid, but honestly, I didn't give a rat's ass. I needed to get out of there, needed some fresh air. The rain outside was cool, but it didn't help clear my head.


	13. Chapter 13

As I walked through my front door, I slammed it behind me and headed straight for the kitchen. I needed caffeine.

Jacob had been silent the entire ride home, not looking at me and barely breathing as far as I could tell, except for the constant, spasm-like tapping of his left leg.

The rain was oppressive, the gray sky closing me in on all sides, and I was happy to be back in my house where I could breathe alone. I expected to hear the roar of Jake's bike outside as I stomped through the living room, but instead, the door opened quietly behind me.

"Hey, guys, did you go to the store?" Emmett asked, looking up from the movie he and Rosalie were watching. I didn't register what it was. I scowled at him as I continued on my quest.

"What's wrong with her?" I heard from behind me.

"Me…"

"What did you do now?" Rose teased as I slammed open the cabinet, grabbing a glass. I filled it with ice before hunting for a soda.

"…Jessica…" was all I heard from the room behind me as I poured a Diet Coke over the ice. I watched the fizzing before me - soothing. I could get lost in carbonation… bubble after bubble, each one a perfect sphere - the kind that only nature can create - appearing only to destroy another.

Grabbing my glass, I walked back through the living room, ignoring the three sets of eyes following my trek up the stairs. I was going to my rooms, and if Jacob was smart, he was going to follow me.

I opened my door, and the smell of Jacob still hung heavily in the air, a musky sweet smell. Just this morning I had been reveling in the scent of him.

I grabbed my notebook from my desk and turned to my loveseat, finding Jacob standing in my door.

"Am I allowed to come in?"

"Suit 'cherself."

"Bella…"

"What?

"Come on…"

"What, Jacob?"

"Will you just stop it, okay? Just…"

"Just what? Listen to you? So you can tell me again about what kind of guy you are, and you can fill my head with how great you are? Oh, but wait, you forgot to mention an ex-fiancé and whatever it is that has you all twitchy around people in town."

"I'm not… fuck."

"What? Spit it out, Jake!"

"Stop fucking yelling at me!"

"Oh, right, sure, I'll do that. I'll just sit silently and ignore you. How's that sound? Is that better? 'Cause let me tell you, that's been a hoot and a half this morning."

"Fuck, Bella, will you give me one goddamn second?"

"Sure… Take your time." I sat down and stared up at him.

…

…

…

Jake started pacing in my small sitting room.

Up and down my black rug.

From the bathroom to the window.

…

…

Touching my bookshelf, he paused, running his fingers over the titles there.

I sat, watching him pick up the picture of my father, looking at it quickly before setting it back down.

…

…

…

Jake paced.

Wearing a virtual path in my rug.

…

…

"Okay, I'm going to go do laundry I guess."

"No…Bella…"

"Well, are you going to talk or just walk around all day? I'm getting hungry; you know I didn't get any breakfast…"

"Stop being a bitch, okay?" he said dejectedly, passing his hand through his hair.

"Then sit down and talk," I answered, trying not to let my annoyance get the better of me.

"All right." He walked over and sat down, settling into the farthest corner of a loveseat barely big enough for both of us.

"So, remember when I told you I used to have a temper…"

"Yeah…"

"Okay… well, there were a couple of times it got out of hand and…shit…"

"What does this have to do with Jessica?"

"I'm getting there. Okay…I…"

Jacob leaned back, staring at the ceiling with his hands in his hair as he took a few breaths.

"Okay…Jessica and I started dating my senior year of high school. We'd known each other for a while, and she was, well, fuck this makes me sound shallow, but I guess I was… she was gorgeous and popular and, well, she was…willing…

"But, see, I was totally convinced that meant we were, like, together for life. We were together for a year when I asked her to marry me, and she said yes, and like an idiot, I was all planning our life. We'd live on the Rez, and I'd work at the fish hatchery with my Dad. I mean, I was just a kid, you know, but I was sure this was it for me.

"Honestly, I didn't even really like Jessica, and she was never interested in me, really. I guess she liked being with the star jock; the fact that it pissed off her parents that I was Quileute was just a bonus. She would laugh at my sketches and carvings, and she'd always talk about TV shows I didn't know, but... I mean, I never even got her a ring or anything, but we told our parents, and they completely freaked out.

"It was right after Royce was born, and shit was nasty. Rose wouldn't let Paul anywhere near him, and his parents were being really obnoxious about the whole thing, telling him it served him right for being with a white girl and shit.

"Jess's parents basically locked her in the house and wouldn't let her out, and if it was possible, my dad started talking to me even less."

"That's terrible, Jake…"

"Yeah, well, we'd sneak out and see each other, and she'd come to my games and shit… But I didn't see her much, and with all the shit we hear about what girls in town are like… You know, there's even a Quileute word for them: Hókwat'. It translates to 'white girl,' but really it means someone you just use and forget about because they can't be trusted.

"My whole life I was told not to trust white girls, you know? I mean, it's okay to be friends, but to date one, to marry one… totally not okay. And then with Rose and Paul, everyone was kind of freaking out."

He looked at me fleetingly, up through his lashes, as if making sure I was still listening.

"I started really… I don't know… like, obsessing about Jess and what she was doing. I'd drive into town in the middle of the day to find her, convinced she was seeing someone.

"So one day I went to where she worked, the little beauty salon on Park Road, and I saw her hug this kid I knew she'd gone to school with, and I completely freaked out. I mean, I was all paranoid and totally out of control with my temper, and…I really just lost it, Bella."

Jacob took a deep breath, shaking his head for a minute, attempting to get the courage to continue.

"All right, so, fuck… So, I basically beat the shit out of this kid, Mike. I mean, in my head it was a fight, but it really wasn't. I was a lot bigger than him, and he had no idea what was going on. So the police were called, and I got taken in, and, yeah, that was fun… My dad wouldn't come get me, so I had to call Mr. Uley, which sucked…"

"Jake…" I said, unable to even imagine him doing what he was describing.

"Yeah…"

"Is that why you left?"

"No, Bella… It actually gets worse…"

The pause was stifling. I needed him to continue; whatever he had to tell me, I needed to know everything. This was one of those moments I could watch myself in. It was happening around me, but I was absorbing it like an observer, not a participant. What he was telling me was all in abstract, impossible to connect to the man sitting in front of me. He'd just been a kid. I could see he was ashamed of himself, but whatever had happened didn't seem to be anything worth torturing himself like this over.

I took a sip of my soda and handed it to him. He took a sip and smiled at me weakly.

"Thanks."

"Sure."

The rain outside fell steadily on the roof,filling our shoes and weighing our clothes down as I sat listening to Jacob tell me the damage he'd done. Sometimes it takes moments like this before you realize you have no one.

"I… Fuck, Bella, I don't want to go through all this with you. I like you not seeing me this way. I don't want you to think I'm…"

"You have to finish; you started now you have to finish, okay? I'm still here, and I'm listening, but I'm not doing secrets."

"Okay…"

…

…

…

"Okay… So my dad was totally unimpressed with me, but most of the kids on the Rez thought what I'd done was awesome. Suddenly I was more popular than I'd ever been, and I felt like I must have been right, you know?

"You know, my grandfather was Chief back when we still did things that way. Now we're run by the Council, but my Dad is still big into the Chief thing, and people still look at him that way… and I guess, I just thought I was big shit, you know?

"But, okay… fuck… so Jess and I kept sneaking around, and I was supposed to meet her one night. She didn't show up, so I went to her house, and she was there with that same Mike kid. She was kissing him, and I swear, I fucking blacked out or something then because the next thing I knew I was in cuffs, and Mike was just…really fucked up.

"He was in the hospital for almost a week… Lost his spleen and still has some problems with his leg… And Jessica… I guess… I'd pushed her out of the way or something… her wrist was broken…

"They said I almost killed Mike, and I was over eighteen, so I was an adult, and… Well, my dad had been fishing buddies with the Chief of Police, and they let the Council deal with me instead of having a trial, which Jess's parents were not happy about, but…

"So they told me my choices were to go to jail or leave and not come back… When I joined the Air Force, that seemed to make them happy enough though, said I could come back to visit my dad since I was doing something useful with myself…

"I never meant to come back here. I never wanted to, and I'm not wanted… But my dad needs me now, and Emmett's dad insisted I do the installation for the library, and for the most part, everyone was really nice about it. I guess this still is home. I just… Fuck…

…

…

…

"Are you going to say anything, Bella?"

"I…I don't know what to say."

"I'm really… what happened… it's not who I am, okay?"

"I…"

The moments were spreading out before me; I could watch as each second approached and passed over us. The couch was outside of time, the flow moving around us as air does when it whips around a child sitting alone on a bench. The more I tried to focus on what Jacob had told me, the slower the moments of time swirling around me moved.

"You almost killed someone, Jake…"

"I know," he said, putting his head in his hands and looking at the rug between his feet. Angela's ominous words came back to me. Was I, in fact, brave enough to be with him?

Looking at Jacob, I was struck by how small he seemed. He was so strong, usually so confident, but he was absolutely terrified sitting here on my small velvet couch, staring at my floor. I stared at him, trying to fit the words dangerous and killer to the figure hunched in on himself before me, but I couldn't. It was like trying to force a cat to wear a bonnet. It simply did not fit.

But no matter how I saw Jake, it didn't change the reality of his past. He didn't even try to justify or explain why he did it… in fact… he didn't even apologize. He didn't want me to see him that way, and he didn't want me to think that was who he was, but…

"Are you even sorry?"

"What?" His head snapped up to look at me. "Of course! Have you been listening?"

"Yeah, but you seem more worried about what people think than…"

"No… Bella… No…" His eyes were round, looking at me with disbelief, like I was the one who had shocked him.

"I…I think you should go."

"Bella, please."

"No, look, you have to go." I stood up, unable to look at him.

"I'm begging you. Please."

"Goodbye, Jacob."

I walked back into my bedroom and closed the door, leaning against it, immobile while waiting to hear the click of my living room door and the roar of his motorcycle. I'd thought that silence was my biggest fear; it turns out I was wrong. My fears collided, fire and ice surrounding and engulfing me, numbing me. I was comatose with fear.

The floor was softer than I'd expected as I sat down, my back against the door as my tears fell finally. I was so wrong. I was so wrong about everything in the world. I'd thought Edward was perfect when in reality he was the outline of perfection, hollow and without meaning. And Jake… Jake… He was beauty and warmth and honesty and openness and everything I needed to thaw the inspiration that had frozen from Edward's inattention. But I was wrong again; in reality, he was a wild fire burning without direction.

I remembered the look in Jake's eyes when he saw Emmett holding my hand, and no matter how much he told himself that he wasn't the same person anymore, it was still a part of him-that rage, that fear. I shuddered with the reality of what he was capable of. It was only by grace that he hadn't killed anyone that day.

The smell of rain wafted through my cracked bedroom window, wiping away the remnants of my night with Jake. The curve of his body was no longer indented in my mattress, the smell of his skin no longer intermingled with my sheets, and I cried at the loss of what I'd thought I found.

The sun moved across the sky as I watched its flirtation with my curtains; the shadows danced slowly to the tune of a silent song. The movie of my night with Jacob played out on the bed before me, interrupted by images of a broken, bloody boy, laid out at the feet of his lover.

I burned in my place on the floor as my fingers lengthened and worked their way into the floor beneath me, searching for meaning in the wood of the house, roots digging for nourishment. My feet were buried and decomposing, my body becoming the very food I was searching for. Disconnected, I was a circular system, self-sustaining, until there was nothing but a shell remaining.

"Bella… Bella, honey…" Rose called from my outer room, but without hands and feet, I could not move.

"Honey, you have to eat something, okay? It's late, and you have work tomorrow."

I sat against my door, unable to respond; my mouth was covered with the vines of my confusion, and I was firmly attached to the floor.

"I'm gonna leave soup out here, okay? Emmett's going home tonight, and Royce will be home any minute. If you need anything, come down and get me, okay?"

I listened as she shuffled out of my room, her slippers dragging as she walked.

I slept on thefloorthat night, unable to face the pillow he'd lain his head on only hours earlier.

That night, I dreamed of a mob in a square calling for death, and a beautiful woman standing on a platform with her wrist in a sling and fire licking at the hem of her dress. My body turned, aching against the hard floor.

The morning came fast, and I awoke to find that I could stand as if I was a whole person. I could walk to the bathroom and shower and wash my hair as if I still had hands that could feel. I brushed my teeth as if I could still taste. The soup Rosalie had brought me the night before sat cool and untouched on my floor; there was a heart drawn on the napkin next to it. My mouth smiled, as if I could still be happy.

I dressed quickly, not bothering to look in the mirror before going downstairs to grab some breakfast, hoping that Rosalie and Royce would still be asleep. I wanted to get to the school early to have some time alone before greeting students this morning. My notebook was tucked into my messenger bag, an idea still unformulated, half realized in the musings within.

I jogged to my truck to find a note sitting on the driver's seat.

_Bella, I may be insane to think you can see past all of this, but it's not too late. It's never too late. I don't know how to explain to you how everything that happened fucked with my honor, and it messed with my head, and it's a secret I don't know how to tell, but you showing up like this… it's like a present I don't deserve. I will do whatever I have to in order to be worthy. – Jake_

The rain stopped as I slowly drove to La Push.


	14. Chapter 14

My day at work passed slowly. I was in a daze. I was angry and confused. Column A simply did not add up to column B, and nothing I did, no matter what integer I used, could make it fit. I was standing in a corner, on the edge of a circle of light, watching the scene unfold before me, unable to understand my role.

Monday night after work, I placed Jacob's letter into my desk drawer next to Edward's and this weekend's ticket to Seattle. Looking at Edward's letters, re-reading his words, I was unmoved. There was still pain, but now it was like the shadow of pain passing over me as the sun chases the moon. When in the darkest moments, it almost seems real enough to touch, but in reality, there was nothing there.

I had resolved to see him that weekend. I couldn't determine how I felt about that; it was like a dead black thing sitting at the bottom of my stomach. I couldn't pull it up to examine it, but I couldn't just let it sit there and fester. The ticket before me made the tears come to the corners of my eyes again, reminding me of the promise of a future lost, but it could be mine again.

Would it be so bad to fall back into the arms of Edward? Perhaps this was just a blip in time, a moment of experience in the span of a lifetime. Edward had been good to me in his way, and his letters were…magical, really. Like everything he did, it was elegant and thought-through.

Why then did looking at Jacob's chicken-scratch letter, scrawled out on the back of a bank deposit slip, make me melt? His words were so open, so uncensored, it made me want to call him, drive over to the college to see him and just forget everything he'd told me. I was self-aware enough to know that he hadn't done anything to me. That all he'd done was be honest, and actually, despite some initial prodding, he hadn't seemed like he was holding anything back.

Sitting and looking out my window, I saw a grey wolf pass by the house. It rounded the corner, heading off into the woods and moving slowly with purpose. He was beautiful, sleek and strong. Although still rare around here, there were some. It made me think of scavengers and carnivores. What was the difference between hunting for what you want and salvaging the remains left behind? Was there anyone who, at some point, wasn't a carcass with the choice pieces taken, only the bits left behind for those that follow? Love isn't that different: survival depends on your ability to find and take what you need.

Something made the self-preservation in me rear its head. I felt lied to and taken advantage of; it made me want to howl and run and scream until my feet bled and my voice was hoarse. So I did the only thing I knew how to do: I spread open my unlined notebook, and it waited for me to commit something to its page, so I wrote. I wrote out my pain and my anger. I wrote out the first things I could think of and every hurt I feared.

Jacob may not have done anything to me personally, but the seed of his past deeds still germinated in his soul. Someday it would bear fruit, and I was petrified of the possibilities. The multiple options played out before me, one after the next colored with fear and anger, each worse than the last, but none as gruesome as the reality paved in stone behind us, never to be undone.

I slept fitfully that night, never able to find the right position to lie in and waking up time and again with a thought on my lips that dissipated into the mist when I opened my mouth to speak.

The next day I was a bit more engaged in class, able to focus on the students' questions at least enough that I could pretend they had my attention. Claire had brought a stack of poems for me to read so that we could begin putting together a package for her to send to publishers. Working with her was cathartic and exciting; it made me eager to get home to the notebook waiting at my desk. Every time I went to the teacher's lounge, Sam would be staring at me, as if he was waiting for me to say something or spontaneously combust. I'm not sure which.

Neena Peebles was on the radio on the drive home; the DJ must've had a cruel sense of humor playing "I Can't Stand the Rain" in Forks. Who here could?

When I got home, I set back to work on the half-formed thoughts from the night before. I had scraps of multiple pieces littering the pages, but there was something coming together, congealing into reality before me.

I wrote and edited, whipping through the picture before me with veracity. I was exorcising the demon of Jacob's past with the speed of my pen. Making this perfect, making it exact, was my therapy, my road to understanding. I red-lined and added, moving words and lines like puzzle pieces until the picture came into focus.

I heard a car outside as I was re-writing my edited draft, ready to be left to percolate before a second round. Rose was coming home with Royce, probably hoping that I had done something about dinner, but maybe if I was lucky, she had grabbed pizza on the way home. I set my notebook on my love seat and went to the bathroom before going downstairs to greet her. I owed her an apology for Sunday night…and a thank you.

Rosalie was a mama bear in the most basic way possible. She did whatever she could to protect those she loved, and sometimes she went about it badly, as it seems like she had with Paul, but sometimes she did it with grace, like she had with me…and soup. I smiled thinking of Jacob…and soup.

The reality was that Jacob made me smile. He had a way about him that was fresh and raw. There was nothing wasted on him; each moment was something to be savored, and he threw himself into living. Whatever else he may be, he was good and strong. I had lost myself in Edward, disappearing into a chalk outline, a paper doll. It was fear-fear of losing him-that ultimately led to me losing myself. I didn't want to lose Jacob to fear. I sighed, looking at myself in the mirror; I was going to have to get my feet wet even if I'd drown.

When I stepped out into the living room though, the floor was already wet. Jacob stood in my sitting room, next to my couch, holding my notebook.

"Is this…" He looked down at my words again as they were falling to the floor, tumbling to the ground before me. "Is this how you see me now?" He shook his head, a tear quivering on the end of his bottom lashes. My words created small splashes as they fell.

He closed my book, setting it gingerly down on my loveseat and walked toward my door. I could hear the _slosh_ _slosh_ _slosh_ of the water in his shoes, and the puddle on the floor was building up into a lake, rippling with his movements.

"Jake…" I said, walking toward him, but my words were floating in the sea building around me, crashing into one another and searching for the bay.

He turned without looking at me, the pain in his heart playing across his features in the evening light coming through my window.

"I made you this… I wanted you to…have it, I guess. Might as well keep it if you want," he offered, setting the small box into the water and letting the tide bring it to me.

"Jake. What I wrote, it's not…"

"Not about me?" he asked, looking up at me and knowing the truth already.

"It's not what you think?"

"No? You didn't write that about me? That's not what you created now, now that you know?"

"It is, but that's not how I see you."

"I think it is, Bella. Maybe you're a better writer than you think you are." His eyes grew cold as he turned and walked out of the room, out of the house.

I clutched the small box he'd given me, hoping that maybe it would be a lifeboat that would carry me back to the coast line. In the distance I could hear a car start and pull out of my drive.

Sitting on my loveseat, I opened it slowly to find a small wood-carving of a tree, each leaf made of metal individually attached to the branches, creating a fluttering, soft sound when it moved. It was attached to a leather string.

He'd made me a necklace, something from his hand for me to wear, to keep him near me. And I had created nothing but pain and a sea of words that said nothing. I placed his gift around my neck and held it tightly. What had I done?

I read over my poem and cried:

_He was the lone wolf you could see it in his eyes  
The way he held his heart the way he held his lies  
Sometimes he'd just show up outside on the porch  
An hour at a time like a lonely whore_

_She was a scarecrow the way she always looked around  
For something she once had and never could be found  
Time was on her side but she never kept track  
All the hunters came and took her memories back_

_Once they met inside a dirty curtained room  
And the rain fell down hard that day onto the tin roof  
She said "I've seen you before, I've been looking for you  
Better keep your heart close, hunters are coming for you"_

_He said "I've seen them a hundred times and I always get away  
Cuz you will never stop looking and I will never stay"  
The lone wolf kissed her mouth like so many times before  
Scarecrow closed her eyes and then she closed the door_

_And the rain fell down on the tin roof when the hunters came that night  
Stole all of her memories; killed the wolf and all his lies (1)_

Rose came home to find me sitting in the kitchen, water pooled around my feet and my notebook staring at me menacingly. Royce toddled in after her, splashing in the puddles before sitting across from me at the table as Rose set the pizza down.

"Our class has a bunny, Miss Bella! I got to feed it; it eats lettuce and carrots and poops."

"Hi, Royce," I said, smiling despite myself. "I'm glad you had a good day."

"Did you, Miss Bella? Is your school fun like mine? Do you have a bunny?"

"I don't have a bunny, but the science teacher has a snake in her classroom."

"Really! Mama, can I have a snake?"

"No," Rose answered without giving even the usual pretense of thought.

Royce was taking off his shoes, dropping them on the floor next to his chair.

"That's pretty." Rose nodded at the tree around my neck.

"Yeah…Jake brought it over for me."

"Hmmm."

"Rose, am I nuts for being with him?"

"Well, yeah, but not for the reasons you mean," she smiled at me, trying to break through my fog.

"Mama said you were sad last night, but I couldn't give you a hug," Royce interrupted suddenly, looking at me.

"Yeah, I was sad. I was feeling better, but now I'm sad again."

"I'll hug you now; you'll feel better."

Royce's small frame hopped from his seat and came unassumingly over to me. Rose stood at the counter, watching as her son showed me that love, real love, doesn't care about words or pasts or shadows or fire; all it cares about is that it can make you smile.

I pulled Royce up into my arms and squeezed him tight; his neck smelled like sugarcane. I kissed his shoulder before setting him down; the tears in my eyes evaporated into the cooling night air.

"Thanks, Royce. You know, you have a magic hug."

"I know; it makes things better."

"It really does. Thanks for sharing with me."

"I have lots of hugs, Miss Bella."

"I'm glad."

"Royce, honey," Rose said from behind him, "sit down, and I'll get you some milk, okay? It's time for dinner."

"Okay, Mama." His pants fell down slightly as he walked back to his seat. He pulled them up and smiled back at me; his little soul had so much to teach me.

"Rose…"

"Go on, Bella; take a slice and go," she smiled at me.

"Is there more? Do I need to know more? I… I can't take this."

"Bella, none of us can know everything about another person, not like you mean. What you can, I think you already know."

"Yeah… I think I do…" I held the necklace in my hand.

I drove to La Push in a misting rain that fogged the windows; the memory of Jacob's warm skin on my hand was a vision of love in the sky. I didn't know if he'd want to see me now, but I was too deep in. I'd call to him from outside his window, like Romeo to Juliet if I had to; I'd scale the walls of the castle, and I'd find the words.

Maybe this is what I needed in a way, the reality of actually losing him, of it not being about me for once; it was about him. This was always about him. God, I was so stupid. Everyone left him. If I listened to the things he said… if I took the time to listen to the things he didn't say, I'd find the meaning.

I could see the boy now, the boy whose mother was gone, whose father wished he'd gone too. The boy was alone with a love song he'd made. He sang it to himself, rocking himself to sleep with his own tune. It played when he needed to hear that he was loved. It was the theme music to his life, and it was something he'd created alone. The boy was small and grew up in a place where his dream couldn't be real.

I drove up to the little red house off the main road and parked in the drive. Night had fallen now, darkness wrapping itself around the spaces between the trees. But the light was on in Jacob's garage. Familiar music was playing…

_Ooh, Child, things are gonna get easier…  
Ooh, Child, things will be brighter._

I smiled, never ceasing to be amazed by him.

_Someday we'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun…_

Inside, Jacob was in his cut-off cargo shorts and no shoes or shirt - a uniform I would come to find equated with his woodworking.

"No, Jake, _stop_!" I screamed, running into the garage. He was approaching his sculpture, the face still incomplete, with a blowtorch. I ran over to it, throwing myself between his creation and the flame; I was willing to absorb the heat to protect it.

He stepped back quickly, turning off the blow torch and looking at me as if I had sprung a tail, or had eight arms, or red eyes like a rodent.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, hardness in his voice which didn't reach the twinkle in his eye. His gaze swept down to my neck where his gift rested just above my breasts. "Why are you here?"

"What are you doing? You can't destroy this; it's… it's too important!"

"What? I wasn't. Jesus, Bella, you have a pretty high opinion of the effect you have on men, don't you?"

"First of all, fuck you. Second of all, you'll be run over by your father's truck repeatedly if you damage this sculpture."

Laughter flashed in his eyes. "I was curing what I had finished of her hair."

"Oh." I dropped my hands from their spread–out, protective stance in front of the wooden woman behind me.

"I'd prefer not to be threatened with violence tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, um, sorry."

"Sure, sure," he said, his smile falling but the twinkle in his eye residual proof that he was glad to see me. I would hold onto it, cling to it, and pitch all of my hopes against it.

"So," he went on, setting the blowtorch down, "now that you've stopped an unintended arson, if there something you wanted?"

"I… Jacob, you left too fast." I forced the words out, refusing to hide behind my veil of fear any longer. The growing pains were intense and shocking, but they had to be borne. "You only read one piece…"

"It was enough." His eyes fell down to the floor.

"No, Jake, don't you get it? You work out here when you're thinking. You go to the hot box when you're mad. I understand! I understand that you've found ways to…be that part of yourself. Can you understand that I do that, too? I write, I write it all down; I don't keep a fraction of it, but that's how I get through, that's how I…figure things out."

"So you figured out I'm some kind of wolf?"

"Are you really going to pretend to be a literal oaf now? I know you better then that."

"Do you? Do you know me?" he asked, a pleading edge to his question.

I opened my notebook to another page, one he hadn't seen, and read to him:

_Once upon a time I was with you  
In a castle built with dreams we had each night  
All the walls were water where the moon would dance  
And the floor moved every time we touched (2)_

"Bella…"

"Jake, you left too soon."

He pulled me into his arms; his smell was warm and earthy, mixed with wood dust and rain. His arms were large, and they cradled the hardest, heaviest parts of me. His body was something I could understand.

"Jake, when you're gone…I'm cold…"

"Me, too, Bells."

"I don't want to give up yet. I don't want to let go."

"Me either, but, Bella, it won't be easy. I'll be the best I can, and I promise I'll tell you everything, but I'm not perfect. And there are people here… there are people here who will hate this for all kinds of reasons. There are people who will try to kill this before it has a chance."

"We'll just have to slay that beast together." I smiled, kissing him lightly and praying it would be that easy.

He pushed the hair away from my forehead with his fingertips and smiled at me, full of hope and promises yet unspoken.

"I'm sorry, Bells."

"I know, Jake; me, too." I placed my hand on his shoulder and climbed up to my tiptoes, leaning in for another kiss, deeper this time. I poured all of my fear into it, sharing it with him and letting it mingle with his. As we kissed, sweetly, with something that resembled but had not yet formed into love, the vision I'd seen the last time I was with him in this garage returned.

But this time, instead of pulling away, instead of shielding myself from the pain I was conditioned to believe would come from opening to someone, I opened my eyes and leapt into the warmth looking back at me. Brown-haired children surrounded us as smiling faces wished us well; my mother stood in the doorway smiling as my father wrapped his arms slowly around her waist.

Jacob kissed me, wrapping his strong arms around me and pulling me into his body, into his life, and I surrendered to him. His tongue traced the outline of my lips, and I met him there, licking at him as our tongues met; we reveled in our combined flavor. My arms wrapped around his neck, and a shudder went through my body at the feel of him against me.

There are moments in time that create a before and an after. And for me there would forever be before and after this kiss. Looking back, I can see that I started falling in love with Jacob Black the very moment I first laid eyes on him. If there's such a thing as destiny, then he's mine. But that evening in his garage was the moment I opened the castle doors and welcomed him in.

"Stay with me tonight," he breathed against my lips before kissing across my cheek and sucking my ear into his mouth.

"Yes…" I answered, lifting my chest to rub against him and letting my head fall to the side to reveal my neck for him to kiss.

"Hmmm… Good…" he mumbled into my skin as he kissed, his mouth hot and wet against me.

* * *

**Authors note**: Hey readers :) Thank you so much for reading my story and for sharing your thoughts with me in the comments. I can't tell you how much it means to me. Since this is the second posting of this story (the first time around I didn't have a BETA or edit, big mistake!) I want to take a sec to thank YNotJacob, Shawnie and JKane180 again for all their help in making RAIN as awesome as possible.

Also, I am writing a book! A real live original fiction, gonna be published book! You can check out the information about it on Kickstarter (dot) com, just do a search for _Shadow on the Wall_ or for Pavarti Devi. I'm giving away prizes on the site for people who are interested in supporting the novel and one of the prizes is a fully bound and edited copy of _The Fragrant Taste of Rain_ to put on your bookshelf. Stop by, no pressure to contribute, but leave me a note and let me know what you think of _Shadow_.

Thank you everyone, I would have never taken the plunge into original fiction if it wasn't for FanFic and you amazing readers.

3 Pav


	15. Chapter 15

I woke up the next morning, and my hand was asleep, pinned under Jacob's heavy chest. I was smooshed, naked, against the wall, with a thin cotton sheet over one leg. Jacob's head was curled up on his bedside table, and one leg was completely off the bed, lying on the floor.

"Jake…" I whispered, trying to wake him gently, but his breath was heavy, and the sleep smell of his skin was strong.

"Jake, honey, come on…" I said, trying to wiggle my tingling hand free.

"Jake. Jake! _Jake_!" I yelled, kicking him.

"What? What? Where?" He jumped out of bed, pulling all of the covers off of us and standing butt-ass naked in the middle of the small room he'd grown up in while looking around for his attacker as I laughed.

"Fire!" I giggled.

"That's not funny," he pouted, climbing back on the bed on top of me.

"Rape!"

"Stop it…" he warned, tickling me mercilessly and making my already full, morning bladder ache.

"Okay, okay, I give." I laughed into his shoulder, kissing it lightly.

"Good, I didn't want to have to haul your naked ass out into the yard." He smiled, rolling onto his side and looking down at me.

"Morning," I said with a big smile on my face, warm and…happy.

"Morning, beautiful lady." He smiled back, kissing me on the nose. "How'd you sleep?"

"What little of it I got was quite restorative," I answered, snuggling into his arm and forcing him to roll onto his back so I could get closer to him. "I think we're going to need to get you a bigger bed though…"

"And put it where?" He chuckled, looking around his room.

"We could put it on the floor. Make the whole room one big bed, like a harem." I ran my hands along his chest. I was the cartographer of Jacob's body.

"A harem, huh? I like that…"

"No, not a harem; a bed like a harem, with only me in it."

"A little jealous, are you?"

"I don't share well, but then, neither do you."

"Oof, okay, maybe too soon for the joking on that one."

"Sorry, honey, did I bruise your ego?" I kissed his chest. "Should I kiss it and make it better?" I asked, pulling myself up along him and drawing his nipple into my mouth.

"Bella…" he moaned as I pulled on him, kissed him, and looked up at his face.

"Can I take a shower?"

"Can I join you?"

"I have to go to work, Mr. Black, and I need to drive home and get a change of clothes first."

"Hmmm… you could wear something of mine." He was gently tracing circles on my back, making goose bumps appear with each touch.

"Somehow I don't think you're my size." I hopped up and threw a dirty t-shirt that had been lying on the floor over my head.

"But you look good in my clothes." He reached up, pulling his hands behind his head and stretching his long body like a powerful cat.

"Maybe so, but I don't think Sam would be very impressed."

"Mmmm, maybe… Okay, take your shower. I'll make some breakfast and make sure my dad's up." He pulled his shorts on over his naked body. I remembered taking those shorts off last night, my hands on his hip bones as I kissed what he revealed beneath them…

In the hall, Jake showed me where the bathroom was and got me a clean towel out of a closet. The shower was small and clean, like everything else in the house. He clearly kept on top of cleaning but didn't really have any decorations or flair to speak of. But that made sense in a home where a father had raised his son alone for the past thirteen years.

The water was hot, and I soaked in it, enjoying the ache of the small bruises that were sure to be on my thighs and upper arms by the end of the day. Jacob was passionate, that was for sure. I giggled when I realized that the soap in here was Irish Spring. Somehow Jake with an Irish accent just didn't work for me. My mind was disorganized, sporadic, this morning. Bliss was having an odd effect on me. I lathered my hair quickly and rinsed it, hoping he had a comb that could make it through my tangles; maybe today it would have to just go up in a braid…

Toweling off, I could hear voices coming from the living room, but I didn't pay them any attention. I knew Jake lived with his dad, and while that was awkward, he was an adult; we'd just have to sort it out.

In Jake's room, I threw on last night's underwear inside out and laughed at having to take a walk of shame today. It was getting late, and I wasn't sure how much time I'd have for breakfast before having to run home. And then I did something that I knew I shouldn't, but I did it anyway. Today was the beginning of a new life: one where I acted and risked, one where I lived. I flipped open my phone and called my one friend at the school: Emily Young.

"Emily, hi, it's Bella… yeah… no, nothing like that… Look, I know it's weird, but can you meet me early at the school? Thanks, and…would you bring me a shirt?" I laughed at the giggle and congratulations I heard on the other end of the line. I didn't like to share so much personal information with the other teachers, but I really needed a change of clothes! "Thanks, I'll see you in a little while."

I hung up the phone and threw Jake's shirt back on; I wanted to keep his smell as close to me as I could for as long as possible. When I opened his door, I heard the voices again, but this time, I could hear the timbre of the older man and the anger of his son.

"You will not call her that!" Jake said with steel in his voice.

"Why, son? Why do you do this to yourself? You're home for one summer, and already you're screwing around with another Hókwat'!"

"Look, t'łòxwádas, Wáshíłli t'ikłó?wa!"

"Cha', Chitakíd-o!"

"Was ho!"

They were speaking so quickly that all I could hear was the sadness of the father and the frustration of the son. Every generation has its growing pains, but Jacob and his father seemed to have more than their fair share. Maybe it was harder because they both did seem to care so much.

I drew my breath in and counted, building my courage. I would show them both, now, that I was not going to hurt him in the only way I could think of. I stepped out into the frigid air of their anger and spoke as loudly and with as much confidence as I could. "Haċh hi?í."

Both men stood stock–still, staring at me with their mouths agape. I didn't know if that meant I'd been successful in wishing them a good morning, or if that meant I'd actually accused them of boiling the neighbor's Cocker Spaniel, but I had nothing to lose now. I would forge ahead.

"Ayásocha?" I asked Billy, who sat in his chair at the small kitchen table.

"Um… I'm fine… How are you?"

"Yapótalli; wisá."

"You're tired! And happy!" Jacob said, laughing, his eyes ablaze. "You're amazing!" He kissed me through his smile before pulling me into the kitchen and sitting me down at the table with his father, who was still staring at me as if I had a fish stuck in my ear. "When did you learn Quileute?"

"Oh, I haven't," I answered, unable to continue with my limited vocabulary. "Emily, one of the other teachers, has been teaching me some during lunch."

"Emily Young?"

"Yeah."

"I'll have to thank her or build her a new house or something." He beamed, grabbing cereal boxes from the pantry and three bowls, placing them on the table. I smiled at Billy, who was studying the fish intently, unsure if it was a trout or a flounder. Perhaps it was a shark; I resisted the overwhelming desire to growl at him, just to see what he would do.

"Okay, so what else can you say?"

"I'm not giving away all my secrets." I smiled up at him, knowing that the gesture I'd made, no matter how small, meant everything to him. "So, what are you boys up to today?"

"Hmm, well, I'm going to get in a run before Dad's PT this morning, and then we'll probably go to the store to pick up some things, maybe check on the price of a new mattress." Jacob winked, and his father snorted.

"Where do you go for physical therapy?" I asked Billy as I reached up and removed the fish from my ear, throwing it across the room and into the sink. Perhaps I would make them fish-fry for dinner…

"Oh, ah, in Forks, the little medical center behind the elementary school."

"Yeah, I know it. That's near where Emmett's apartment is, right?" I asked, turning to Jacob, who was still smiling like a small child who'd gotten the best toy in the vending machine.

"Boy, stop smiling at the girl and get the milk," Billy said gruffly before winking at me.

Billy Black was a conundrum. He ignored his son, from what Jake had told me, but the man before me didn't seem like the picture I'd gotten. What I saw was a kind man, one who worried about what kind of person Jacob was and one who perhaps didn't know how to handle the broken relationship they now had. These boys needed something to bring them together, something to agree to. It was like buying a new kitten and wanting your old cat to love it; sometimes you had to rub the baby with some tuna fish juice to make it a little more appealing. By the time the scent wore off, the older one would either love it or have eaten it; either way, the problem would be solved.

Jacob sat down, and we all ate quietly to the tune of Snap Crackle Pop.

"Thanks for breakfast," I said, standing up and taking my bowl to the sink. I washed it and placed it on the drying rack, thankful that Rose had gotten a dishwasher when she re-did the kitchen in our place. "Bye." I kissed Jake on the head, running my fingers through his hair before heading to get my notebook out of the garage.

"Wait," he said, getting up and coming after me. "I'll walk you out."

He walked with me out to the garage, his hand intertwined with mine. "Can I see you this afternoon?" He wrapped his arms around me when we reached our destination.

"I'm meeting with Claire after school, and I have a lot of papers to grade… Why don't you come over for dinner? Emmett and Royce will be glad to see you."

The comfortable pace of my life with Jacob began that morning. In a world where it's hard to get it right, we seemed to be doing fine. As afraid as I'd been to get wet, what I found was that the ocean could hold us.

The rest of the week was blissful. I wrote and worked while he tended to his father with care and lived his hobbled together schedule at the college, Paul's garage and the fire station happily. We were together when we could be, but there was no expectation and no disappointment. The implications of our time together were lost to us until it came crashing down.

I learned that Joseph Uley, Paul and Sam's Dad, had taught Jacob how to whittle, and I showed him a couple of pieces of mine that had been published. We listened to music and made love and smiled with the unselfconscious happiness of youth.

Saturday morning, I awoke to find he'd reached out to me at some point in the night and was holding my hand in his sleep. The sweet simplicity of it overwhelmed me, and I knew that if I died today, I wouldn't change anything. I knew how love can break your heart, but still I wouldn't change anything. I had no regret.

I snuck out of my futon and tiptoed to the bathroom. Today, I was going to see Edward. I was not the same person I'd been those months ago when he left. The chain reaction of his destruction led to a new me; I had to be broken to find how to live. Would he recognize the face before him? Would I be able to hold onto the strength I'd found in the rainy landscape of Washington State?

I looked at myself in the mirror and placed Jacob's necklace around my neck. Today at 10:30, I would get on a bus and leave everything I'd gained behind so that I could finally banish what I'd lost from my soul. I felt almost exuberant with the thought of being free of Edward, once and for all. As much as my strength had been born out of my relationship with Jacob, I knew that it was me; I had fundamentally changed. By forcing myself to let Jake in, by facing the things I feared, I gained not just the amazing man snoring in the next room but myself as well.

It was 9:00 am, and I needed to eat something and get dressed before going to the bus station. But I stole a moment to watch Jacob sleeping in my bed. He slept with his arm hanging off the bed, no matter where we were. His broad back was uncovered, and the slope of his spine was beautiful. I sat next to him on the bed, his shirt hanging around my small frame, and I placed my hand on the small of his back-the spot where his spine curves in slightly before angling out to his strong, muscular ass.

"Mmmm…" he moaned, lifting his head in sleep.

"Jake-baby, time to wake up."

"No," he pouted, burrowing into his pillow.

"Come on, you have to get up, so we can eat and get to the bus station."

"No, I said." Turning to me, he smiled. "Don't go."

"Jacob…" I warned.

"No, not don't go see Edward; don't go anywhere."

"I will not be tempted."

"No?" He lifted the sheet off himself, revealing his beautifully firm erection and delicious body.

"That's not fair."

"I know." He cracked his wickedest smile.

"Get up," I said, standing and walking to the other side of the room.

"Really?" he asked, and I had to laugh at his honest surprise that I wasn't going to jump on him due to just the sight of him.

"I think you're getting spoiled… you're going to have to start working for it a little more."

"Am I now?"

"Yep, maybe having to wait 'til I get back will help you appreciate what you have." He knew as well as I did that if he kissed me, I was a goner; my body could not resist his, no matter how playful I may be.

"But I thought I'd give you something to remember me by today." He walked toward me now, his body gleaming in the early morning sun.

"That's why I'm wearing this." I touched my necklace reverently.

"Mmmm." He pushed my hair back from my neck, revealing the skin there. Unconsciously, I leaned my head to the other side, giving him access to as much of me as he desired. "You sure you don't need anything else?" he murmured, smelling my neck. "Maybe something you could feel as you walk." He grabbed me roughly by the ass, lifting me slightly and making me gasp.

Walking forward, Jake pushed me against the wall. When my back met with the plaster, he leaned in, pushing himself against me; his hands squeezed me tightly. "Would you like that?" he asked with a sparkle in his eye.

"I don't know that you can fulfill that promise," I teased. Where was he taking this? Wherever it was, I was diving in deep.

The room blurred as Jacob grabbed me, firmly but with care, until I was against the bed, and then he pushed me down face first. I laughed, climbing up to my knees to find him kneeling behind me.

"Oh my God…" I hissed as he grabbed my hips and pulled me back against him. I could feel his hardness against my ass, rubbing against me in places that had never been touched before. His hand floated forward, reaching under the shirt and rubbing my breast as he slid back and forth against me.

He leaned back up, repositioning himself so that his erection was between my spread legs. His cock slid through my folds, building friction as he lubricated his length against me.

"I could fuck you 'til you can't walk. 'Til you can't see straight," he growled behind me, his hands gripping me with an iron grasp. I laid my elbows down on the bed, bringing my head down so that my ass tilted up at him at an impossible angel. He hissed at the view, seeing me open and ready for him; presenting myself so completely.

He grabbed my ass and spread me farther, running his thumb along the engorged flesh of my cunt. His hands were kneading me like dough, roughly, not concerned anymore with being gentle, and I loved every moment of it. I pushed back against him, whimpering with desire.

"You want me like this?" he asked, placing the tip of his cock against me.

"Yes…" I sighed, pushing my chest down to the mattress.

"You want me to fuck you?"

"I need it."

"You need what?" He placed the tip of him inside me, his full head stretching me out. My body yearned to engulf him.

"I need you. I need you in me."

We had to be quiet; the family was awake downstairs, and Jacob tended to get a little…enthusiastic. I grabbed a pillow and brought it to me just in time to stifle my scream as he pushed himself into me in one smooth thrust. He held still for an impossible moment before whispering to me.

"Bella, you tell me now if you don't want this, but I'm going to fuck the holy hell out of you this morning. You're going to feel me until next Tuesday."

I shivered, knowing that there was one thing you could always count on with Jacob Black: he always kept his promises…

He slid out of me, until he was barely there at all. I was so afraid he would leave I leaned back, earning myself a stinging slap on the ass. "You hold still now," he commanded, and I nodded, ready for whatever he was going to give me. As hard as I tried to stay still though, my legs were shaking with need and my hands were clutching the sheets. He'd only been in me once, and I was so close to coming I thought I might die if he didn't start moving.

Jake rocked his hips forward with such force the air was pushed out of my body, and I almost tumbled from the impact. But his hands were hard on my hips, holding me in place. Before I had a chance to catch up to him, he was slamming into me again and rocking my body to his impossible rhythm.

His body slapped against mine, making me squeal and ache from the depth of him. It was a glorious feeling that I believed couldn't get any better. And then he changed his angle, standing behind me and pulling me back to the edge of the bed.

He hit places inside of me that my brain couldn't comprehend, but my body responded to with a ferocity I didn't know I had in me. I pushed off with my hands bracing myself for each thrust, throwing my head back as he brought himself into me fully again and again. My legs were shaking, and I lifted up onto my arms, needing more strength, more leverage to counter his force, which by some impossibility was building.

Jacob grunted as he pushed farther and farther into me, burying himself and moaning as I clutched him, pulling against each withdrawal. My body never wanted to let him go but knew that his return would bring warmth and another round of impossible sensations.

My thighs burned as my body quivered desperate for release. Laying my head down again as I listened to his grunts and obscenities behind me, I reached back and stroked my clit, screaming into the comforter with the duel sensations of my hand and his cock. As I was building, nerves on fire and my body realizing levels of stimulation I didn't think I could survive, Jacob slapped my ass again, harder than before, and it pushed me over into convulsions of ecstasy.

"My fucking God!" I screamed, collapsing in on myself and disappearing for a moment into the epicenter of my body. Jake held on to my boneless body like a man driven insane. He slammed again and again, holding me up before he tumbled on top of me with a strangled cry of his own as he twitched and bucked up against me.

Lying on the bed, we breathed together, our heartbeats and breath in unison and our bodies recovering while still entwined. I elbowed Jake gently to roll off of me, and he whined but complied, allowing my lungs to re-inflate.

"Was that okay?" he asked quietly, kissing my shoulder.

"You really have to ask?"

"Don't want to do anything you don't like."

"You silly boy, I love everything you do." I kissed him softly then, letting my tongue caress his for one more moment. "I have to go though."

"I know," he pouted, watching me get up. I grimaced slightly at the sting between my legs, making Jake laugh.

"Told you," he said smugly, earning himself a smack on the head as I walked to the dresser to pull out a clean pair of jeans.

We drove quietly to the bus station with Jacob's hand resting on my leg and my hand resting on his. I tried to think of what to say that would give him some piece of mind that my going had nothing to do with him. The words were elusive, and so we were stuck here, shrouded beneath fear and insecurity, holding hands.

The bus was pulling in as we got out of the car. My ticket was firmly in my back pocket, my beautiful necklace, and my resolve nestling between my anxiety and my pain. "Have fun, I guess," Jake said, leaning down to kiss me.

"I'll miss you."

"How about I pick you up when you get back?"

"I don't know when I'm coming back yet."

"What? You're not coming back tonight?"

"I…I don't know yet. I hadn't thought about it."

"What did you think? You might stay there tonight with him? You been planning a romantic get away?" His worried mind had given into fear.

"Jacob…"

"No, you know what? I'm not the rebound guy. If that's all you want, you'll have to find someone else, okay?"

"Jake, stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Stop the tragedy, okay? I'm coming back to you; I just don't know when yet."

"I don't like it."

"I know, but you have to trust in me."

"I do; it's just… scary…"

"Chicken shit." I smiled up at him, earning a chuckle, and I knew we'd be okay.

"I'll call and let you know what the plan is, okay?"

"Okay, Bella." He leaned down and gathered me into his arms, surrounding me with his strength, and I poured the things I couldn't say out to him.

Getting on the bus, I saw him walking down the road alone, away from his car. His gait was easy, hands deep in his pockets. Wherever he was going now, his head was in a cloud, miles away, while my eyes painted the outline of his retreating figure.

I took my seat and opened my notebook, looking through the scraps of thoughts that had been swirling in my mind for the past few weeks. I'd come here with my dreams and fears. I could see the pain dripping off of the pages, running into the gutters and leaving the warm sun that was Jacob behind.

The rain started to fall then, effortlessly, seeping into the ground without thought, knowing that it was the natural place for it to go. Sitting on this bus, my heart ached but not for the reasons I'd expected. I ached for what I was leaving behind, what I was walking away from. Edward had left a mark on my chest, a raw cut with ragged edges. It was healing, but the scab kept pulling off, getting caught on the fabric of my clothes and letting the blood ooze out.

Closing my eyes, I leaned back into my seat, feeling the bus pull away from Forks, and everything I had to hold onto slipped away. I could imagine falling and slipping into my old skin, letting Edward swallow me whole. And that skin fit easily, pulling on like an old shirt that was soft and thin, the smell familiar. I lingered there, trying it on and letting my body sink into the seat beneath me as I pictured a life with Edward.

He would hold me as I slept, and I would stand next to him, looking up from my place on his arm. He would kiss me, my mouth full of questions that had no answers. This was not my home. I would go numb here; this skin couldn't feel, couldn't sense the heat. No wonder it had been so easy to burn.

Opening my eyes, I looked out the window, watching the rain fall drop by drop and streak along the bus.

* * *

**A/N **I LOVE MY READERS! To celebrate YOU I am having a giveaway :) This will end July 6th 2011

All you have to do is sign up for my mailing list at Fighting Monkey Press and if you want a second entry follow my blog at .com.

**Prizes are: **  
**First Place **winner will have their choice of: iTunes Gift Card, Writers Kit OR a bound and signed copy of The Fragrant Taste of Rain.  
**Second Place** winner will have the same choices minus the iTunes Gift Card should the First Place winner choose that (I only have one)


	16. Chapter 16

**Okay, since many of you have asked, here's the Quileute translation from the last chapter. Again, this is real Quileute per the great and powerful internetting, but I don't speak it so I have no idea if I'm right.**

**"Why, son? Why do you do this to yourself? You're home for one summer, and already you're screwing around with another Hókwat'!" (White Girl)**

**"Look, t'łòxwádas, Wáshíłli t'ikłó?wa!" (Look, Old Man, all this is driving me crazy!)**

**"Cha', Chitakíd-o." (Son, she's a killer.) or (Son, she's killing you.)**

**"Was ho!" (Not So!)**

**Now without further delay - Edward!**

* * *

The Seattle bus depot was large, but I was greeted by a man in a black suit with a sign that had my name printed on it. Of course I was; this was Edward after all. If he thought I'd go along with it, he would have had a private driver pick me up and bring me here, but to his credit, he knew me better than that.

I sat in the back of an unassuming black car on the way to the concert hall, where I was given a box seat and a glass of champagne. Now that I was here, I was able to appreciate the magnitude of the moment I was in. I was in jeans and a shirt in a concert hall where most people were wearing fur and jewels. I was in a box seat being waited on and catered to at every opportunity.

This is what life with Edward would have been. It was elegant and grand, and I was the ugly duckling tagging along for the ride. All I could think of was how much Jacob would love the old–fashioned, crystal chandeliers and how ridiculous men looked in tuxedos. My box was intended for six people, but I was here alone, left to wonder where his parents were if this was such an event.

Edward, though, would invariably have a calm understanding for whatever their other obligations might be.

The lights began to dim, and a hush settled over the audience. I leaned back into my seat and placed my feet up on the balcony before remembering where I was and removing them. Whispers could be heard, but the sounds were absorbed by the velvet curtain of the stage.

The main curtains opened to reveal elegantly designed tormentors surrounding a grand piano. The room went silent, the dark of the audience vibrating against the light of the stage. If Edward knew how to do one thing, it was create an entrance. As the audience's breath began converging, coming together in a scripted pattern, Edward stepped out onto the stage, tracked by a spotlight as he moved slowly, lithely, toward the piano.

Edward's porcelain skin shimmered under the amber light tracking his movements. He was an exquisite creature, a beauty from out of time, impossible to categorize within modern concepts of masculine and feminine. He was perfection. His auburn hair blazed under the hot light, making the blonde streaks that ran untamed through it spark and jump. His body was thin and strong, his precision clear in every movement he made. Beautiful green eyes flashed across the box where I was sitting and settled on my figure cloaked in dark. I knew that he could see me by the flames licking at my feet and the sting as the scab on my heart ripped off.

A crooked smile broke through his composure, making the air in my lungs catch and heave. His façade recovered as he turned back to the waiting crowd and bowed. The familiar scene before me made time stretch back and wrap around until it met with a point in the past before his departure, before my destruction. It sealed itself against me, taking the past five months out of time and setting them aside in escrow. This was my real life.

Edward approached the piano, scooping the tails of his tuxedo out before sitting down with his long fingers stretched out over the keys. His opening piece was familiar to me; it was the lullaby he'd written for me so many years ago, but it was deeper, broader. He'd been working on it, adding in the harmony he'd hummed along in the recording I had listened to just last week.

The notes flowed in and out of me, caressing me with the unspoken love he poured out to the air and dripping down on me like a cool rain on a hot summer day. I allowed myself to just be here, now, forgetting about the past and letting the caress of Edward's music wash away the blood dripping from my heart. I could see the very air between us flex like a heart beat.

His face was chiseled in concentration, and his body swayed with the momentum of the music he created, seducing the piano like an alchemist weaving gold.

Soon the tune changed and became something I didn't recognize; it was sorrowful. I watched as the moss and grime of his regret grew over the piano. The notes were labored now, his guilt making the air thick and difficult to move through. I leaned forward, watching his face contort with pain as he forced the story of our separation out into the universe.

The music played and played; how long, I didn't know. It rolled over me, firing darkness out of a gun, aimed at my pain. I knew that his despair could only be matched by my own. The realization that this pain, this connection, would never be over caused me to clutch at my newly injured heart, bleeding fresh, red blood.

But instead of a fist full of flesh, what I found was a small, wooden tree and its soft, perfectly constructed leaves, each one made with love. The blood on my hands stained the delicate wood. Was it possible then, to love two men? Was it possible to bleed for one while you smiled at the thought of another? Could the soul be segmented, given away piece by piece?

The music stopped, and Edward's voice, velvet and smooth, broke my soliloquy.

"Thank you for coming this afternoon. I hope you have enjoyed the journey we have taken so far. I have one more piece to play for you, which has never been performed publicly before. It's a new piece, written just for today, and for the beautiful woman who has given me so much, just by being here. Thank you. This piece is called 'Believe in Superstition.'"

My breath caught as all the things I needed to hear Edward say came pouring out of him through his music. It was joyful and light, unexpected in its boldness. It was a simple tune, unlike his usual work. It flowed naturally from one movement to the next, easy and full of truth. My heart swelled at the thought that anyone could possibly create something like this out of their feelings for me.

Especially Edward, who was by nature a thinker, not a feeler. He analyzed and processed every moment, every decision, every feeling until it was void of passion. But this new sound coming out of him... it was like jumping into the cold water on a hot summer day: surprising but welcome.

The tune slowed and changed, showing a field of mourners parading from funeral to burial - the death too soon, the night spreading out before us and spanning infinity. The grace of that innocent love sprinkled through, trying to burst out of the ground that had hardened for the coming winter. The loss of joy was such a waste.

Reverberating out from Edward's stoic frame, still now, was an overwhelming sense of yearning. Slowly he stood while the audience was unsure if applause, tears or silent reverence was the appropriate response.

As he bowed, his eyes darted out to find mine, and the audience cheered their appreciation as my tears broke loose. I cried in the darkness of their adoration because a person cannot lie. I wanted to run; I wanted to walk home in the rain, letting it wash away my confusion. I wanted to bury myself in Jacob's arms, but how could I when my heart, at least part of it, belonged to another? How could I ever be good enough for him when my life was a series of betrayals?

As the lights came up, I sat and watched the audience filtering out. They were high on the fumes of my pain; only Edward knew the depths to which we could fall if we allowed the ground to open under us. In that, we were tied together forever, a history that could not be eradicated, no matter how much easier that would make things.

The stage lights came on now, and I watched as the stage hands, dressed in black, struck Edward's construct. His environment was being packed up, stored until it was needed again. The stage was grey, and now, with the harsh hotlights on overhead instead of the gelled illumination from the performance, I could see the blocking mapped out for the next performance, the teasers flying high overhead.

As seductive as the reality on that stage may have been, and as beautiful as his words sounded against my ears, it was also just a construct. His music was rehearsed and edited, rehashed and deconstructed until it created the artifice which evoked the most emotion. The audience was the rube, my pain the trick.

I heard the soft swish of Edward's walk behind me and stood to greet him. He had changed into jeans and a t-shirt, loose and elegantly draped against his frame.

"Bella," he breathed as he rushed to me, pulling me up into his arms, wrapping his long fingers around my heart and squeezing it until he controlled its beat. I fell against his body, hard and angular; familiar. His smell was sweet, and the illusion of reality gripped me firmly, sinking its teeth into my flesh, locking its jaw, and refusing to let me go without shredding me in the process.

"Edward," I said with tears stinging my eyes. It was impossible to believe that he was here before me, his face soft and open. He was older but the same.

"I'm so glad you came." Releasing me, he pulled back and looked into my eyes. "I'm… I'm so sorry for leaving; I don't know how to express it. This has been the hardest, darkest time of my life. I…I don't see how I'd ever get over you."

He pulled me into him again, bringing his mouth to mine. I allowed him to kiss me; his lips were soft and sweet pressed against mine. His breath was ragged as he pinched his face together, leaning his head against mine and leaving me tired and cold. He was beautiful. With my hands on his shoulders, I dreamed of a movie-script ending, where I could believe in superstition. As much as it may never be over…I couldn't see a way for that ending to be mine.

Time snapped back, linear again, giving me my months of growth and change back - giving me Jacob's heart that I held around my neck, fluttering like a sparrow. I passed through this moment and came out the other side sadder but stronger. I had fallen and stumbled, but I was here now.

"I'm so glad you're here. I could have saved us so much time," he whispered.

I stepped back from him, causing him to lift his head and his eyes to search mine for meaning.

"Edward…" I began, not sure how to explain my feelings, "…I'm sorry…"

His face tightened in understanding, his belief that I would come back to him cracking along the fault lines of my heart. "I'm sorry, Bella… please… don't let my mistakes taint this."

"Edward, it's not your mistakes. I'm…I'm not yours anymore. I can't see a way."

"No," he said firmly. "Let's… let's just go get something to eat. Let's talk and see where, what we are." His resolve was unwavering; if I released into him, even for a moment, he would consume me.

The vultures were circling; the remains of our love clutched each other, knowing that the end was not far now but still praying for a savior.

"Edward, thank you for bringing me here, for the music… It was indescribable, but I have to go home now."

"Home? Where is home?"

"I have a life here."

"You've been here for a few weeks, Bella; we have years of life together."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does." His desperation was thick in his words, his mouth dry as he tried to keep me from leaving. The tragedy was that he was the one who'd left, so many months ago. "You… Bella, I don't know what I've done… If I'd known when I left the harm that it would cause… I don't know who I am without you."

"It's not true, Edward. That music, that was amazing; you created that without me."

"You mean more to me than anyone I could ever love. Bella, please, we can… we can go to Paris like you always wanted. We can smoke and drink and eat and do anything you want."

"But, Edward, what I want is to go home."

"Please, Bella…"

I placed my hand on his face; the contours of his image burned into my flesh, making my hand the negative impression of his love. I kissed him again, lightly, before walking past him and outside into the misting evening air. I didn't know which way the bus stop was, but I knew where I needed to be.

I took a breath, savoring the moment of independence. I ached for Edward; my past longed for him. Tears threatened to fall, not for the love we'd lost, but for the friend I'd missed so badly. No one knew me like he did; good or bad, our selves were intertwined in shared memories.

"Bella," I heard him call out behind me. "You don't know where you are. Please at least let me drive you home, okay?"

"Edward… it's three hours away."

"I know. I can… sleep on the couch or find a hotel, but please… we can talk on the way. That's all I'm asking; just a chance to talk to you."

His earnest sincerity called to my heart.

"Please," he said again, quietly now. "I've… I've really missed you."

That was more than I could say no to. The whispering in my head told me to run, that this was _that_ moment, the moment when I chose, but his eyes held onto me, pulling me back into his trap. My need for him in my life, in some way, any way, drove out all thoughts of why this was really a very bad idea.

"Okay, Edward," I ageed, following him back inside and down to the garage below the theatre.

His silver Volvo waited for us, making me smile at how few things really do change. The car smelled familiar, full of discarded coffee cups and tattered notebooks. I longed to read what he'd written, what he was working on; his art was always seductive.

Sitting in the passenger seat, I pulled my phone out of my bag to call Jake and let him know I was coming home, but looking over at Edward, I thought better of it. I didn't want to start a conversation I wasn't prepared to have, so I texted him quickly.

**_Heading home now – b back l8 – c u 2morrow_**

I paused before sending. Was this something I signed? How? The temptation to type **_luv u_** at the end was strong, but instead, I just sent it as it was, hoping he would know what was missing, what I couldn't bring myself to admit.

"Who was that?" Edward asked, looking at me from the side of his eyes as he drove out of Seattle toward Forks.

Looking down at my phone, I shrugged, unable to find words to tell Edward who Jake was. What was he exactly? My boyfriend? That didn't seem right somehow. My best friend? "A friend," I finally settled on. I was taking the easy way out of that conversation but didn't know what else to say.

Edward snorted in response, his jaw hardening as he sped up, racing along the highway.

The trees sped by as the darkness settled in.

After a few unsettling moments of silence, Edward changed his tactic; his hand reached out and settled on top of mine. His skin was soft and smooth.

"Edward," I said, pulling my hand away.

"What? I can't hold your hand anymore?" His temper was rising. Despite his delicate upbringing, Edward was not above fits of anger.

"Of course you can. It's just... I don't think it means the same thing to me anymore." I bit down on my lip, a nervous gesture it occurred to me I had stopped doing as often.

He sighed shakily. "I… Bella, I know I hurt you, but please, if you would just give me a chance to show you…"

"There's nothing to show me, Edward. I… look, why do we have to do this to each other? You leaving, it was the worst thing that has ever happened to me; it…it destroyed me."

"I know," he said softly, grief oozing from him.

"I can't forget that happened. I'm not the same person anymore."

"I know, Bella, but neither am I. We can change together; we can go anywhere you want. We have each other, and that's what matters. I want to be with you. I want to remember what it's like to feel safe."

"Is that what I am? Safe?"

"No, that's not what I meant." Edward was speeding along, taking the exit ramp for the next highway at maximum speed; the Volvo leaned precariously to the left. His hands clutched the steering wheel hard enough that I began to worry if it might crumble under him.

I felt myself rising, my new strength refusing to just buckle under his dominance. I had spent too many years allowing myself to not speak, not feel. "It is. You don't want to feel or risk; that's too hard."

"I'm here; this is hard."

"Sure, coming back with the assumption that I'll fall back into your arms is really hard."

"That's what you think I expect? I thought you might hit me or not come at all. When I saw you in that box seat…"

"Slow down, okay?"

"My driving scares you, but you can move out to the middle of nowhere by yourself and prefer that to a life with me?" His anger was overtaking his pain and love. Edward was unaccustomed to not getting his way.

"You aren't offering me a life. You're offering me a dream, and it doesn't exist!"

"It could!" He practically screamed now, his face open and torn, the self-inflicted wound gaping.

"Edward-" I reached for his hand now "-it doesn't."

"I want you."

"I want you too, but…" How did I tell him that this was a shadow? This was the memory of affection. There was nothing concrete holding this love up; it would have no choice but to fall. The promises he offered me… he offered me everything, but they were just a tantalizing dream, smoke that would dissipate if you studied it too hard. "…Edward, the time is wrong."

He sighed, slowing the car slightly with resignation in his beautiful face.

"I'm not going to stop trying."

"I…I don't want you to, but only because I don't want to lose you again. You're my best friend, my memory; I don't know if I can stand losing you twice."

"Bella, you'll never lose me; I'll always be here, waiting for the moment when you realize what you need."

"Edward…that's not what I mean."

"I know, but it's what I mean; take the time you need but know I'm right here, just outside of the light, waiting until the time is right. And when you reach for me, I'll be there in an instant."

As we talked, hashing through old hurts and lost dreams, I didn't hear my phone jingle, and I didn't feel its familiar vibration. Stuffed into my purse quickly, it was forgotten. The text from Jake was never received. If I'd had it in my pocket, if I'd been paying attention to the world outside of Edward, then none of this would have happened. But, as always, just being in his presence consumed me, even as I tried to pull away.

We reminisced about the summer we'd visited my mother in Florida and her unabashed flirting. We recited poetry that had been ingrained into our psyches. We relived shared moments of joy and discovery.

"Do you remember when Tanya was convinced that her show needed real rain?" Edward was laughing now as we strolled through our years together.

"Oh, God."

"And she made us all stand backstage with big fans and spray bottles."

"And then Victoria got pneumonia, and we had to close the show."

"Oh, my God, Tanya was so hopping mad."

"I seriously thought she was going to lay an egg when Victoria called from the hospital."

"And then she wanted to do the show anyway and have someone just stand in…for Cassandra."

"At least she knew better than to ask me…"

"I think that was the worst show I ever saw or worked on or was ever thought up in the history of theatre."

"I don't know, Edward… Remember when Irina tried to make a film of Genet's _Oh,_ _Sister,_ _My_ _Sister?_"

"Oh, shit! The incest porn! I forgot about that!"

With Marvin Gaye on the radio, comfortably uncomfortable together, his smile flashed freely as we remembered our horrid attempts at keeping a pet fish alive, and his desperate midnight studying for a required statistics class that he never did manage to pass. Our life together may have been short in comparison with the span of human experience, but for us, we were so young, and we were all we'd ever known.

Having Edward back was a gift, and selfishly, I thought it was one I could keep without repercussions. If I kept my hands to myself and didn't let my eyes linger for too long on his beautiful face, if I breathed shallowly so that his smell didn't intoxicate me, I could hold onto my strength.

"Do you ever talk to Garrett or Carmen anymore?" he asked, keeping me firmly planted in the past.

"No… I mean, after you left, I kind of didn't talk to anyone."

"Oh…"

We pulled into Forks well after dark that Saturday night. We laughed as we pulled into my dark drive, and Edward smiled as the white house that had become my home came into focus.

"It's beautiful; perfect, like a picture in a book."

"It is… I love it. I think I'm going to try and put in a garden this spring."

"There's no sun!"

"I can trim some trees back maybe. I don't know; it just seems like it'd be fun to try."

"I've never had a garden," he said, stopping the engine and getting out quickly with the clear intent of opening my door for me. But I was not that same girl; now I was someone who opened my own door, and sometimes just smashed through the wall.

"Me either. There's something really fantastic about the idea of growing something though, you know? I love how much power the plants have."

"Power? You're turning into a hippy now?" he teased as we walked up the steps to the house.

"No, think about it; the power it takes for a bulb or a seed to break out of its shell and push through all of that compact, hard soil, just searching for the light. The it bursts up hard enough that you have leaves and sprouts today that were nowhere to be found yesterday. It's amazing really."

"You're so cute when you over-think things," he laughed, smiling at me with something that resembled love.

"Edward, you can come in, but you're sleeping down here on the couch, okay?"

"Whatever you want, Bella… I'm just- I'm just so glad to be here with you." He placed his hand on my elbow; it felt cool and familiar, making me smile up at him.

We walked in quietly; Rose and Emmett were already asleep. Tiptoeing up the stairs in the dark, I didn't notice the black military boots sitting next to the table at the bottom of the stairs.

When I opened my door, I turned on the light, allowing Edward into my new home, this place where I had created my new life. "It's very…stark," Edward said, walking in a step and leaving the door open behind him.

"Sorry, I don't have your love of stenciling and decoupage," I laughed and was rewarded with one of Edward's brighter, fuller smiles.

"Thanks for letting me stay."

"Thanks for driving me home." I smiled up at him, feeling the familiar joy of having him near wash over me.

He pulled me into a hug, his hands on the small of my back, respecting the newly formed boundaries of our relationship. I leaned up and allowed myself to sink into him, into the memory of him that stood before me. For just one moment, I allowed myself to inhale fully, intoxicated by the sweetness that was Edward Masen.

"I love you, Bella," he whispered into my hair, pulling me closer to him; our hug became tighter.

Despite the sensation of his body against mine and the dizzying effect of his attention, I pulled away and looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Edward," I whispered with his face close to mine, our bodies connected, and my heart twenty minutes away on the La Push Reservation.

"Okay…" he said, pulling back from me and running his hand through his beautiful hair.

He waited in the sitting room while I walked into my bedroom, flipping on the light.

"Bella?" I heard mumbled from my bed.

"Jake!" I cried, turning around to face him faster then I'd meant to with guilt on my face.

"Hmmmm, you're home." He opened his arms, beckoning me to bed.

"Honey, Edward's here. He's going to sleep on the couch. I need to get him blankets, okay? Then I'll come to bed."

"Why is he here?"

"He drove me home."

"From _Seattle_?" Jake sat up with disbelief in his eyes.

"So we could talk, Jake. I didn't know you'd be here." I smiled at him, hoping he wouldn't be able to see the bloodstains on the necklace he'd made for me.

"Okay…"

I knew that all he wanted was to believe me, but his own demons made that a painful endeavor. He was trying though; I could see the struggle in his face.

"I'm glad you're here," I smiled, leaning over to kiss him before pulling the extra pillows and blankets out of my closet.

That night I slept fitfully, snuggled tightly against Jacob's warm body while Edward's cool caress called to me from downstairs. My mind was on overdrive, and I was trying to reconfigure my reality and deal with each of them separately - see my attachment to each of them without involving the other.

What I couldn't realize was that it's impossible to segment one's soul. While you could love more than one person at a time, those loves only made you whole when you acknowledged them both. My attempt to separate my need for one from the other was slowly tearing me in two.

The morning came slowly, Jacob's soft snoring keeping the smile on my face as I went downstairs to make coffee and wake Edward. As the morning brew percolated, Edward wandered into the kitchen wearing last night's jeans and t-shirt. Mornings from years past collided in his sleep-heavy eyes and soft lips.

"Coffee…Thank God…" he said as he collapsed into the chair across from me.

Laughing at his desperate need for morning caffeine, I got us mugs down from the shelf. Mornings with Edward swirled around me; happy memories that had been drenched in my sorrow laid themselves out to dry in what I hoped could be a friendship between us. But when I turned back, he was standing close behind me, his beautiful body awakening an old passion in mine. Leaning in, he put his hand on my cheek. "I missed you last night… I've missed you so much…" He leaned in to kiss me, his eyes veiled.

"Edward…I thought you understood." I put my hands up, feeling his body against my hand and his passion clear against my leg.

"I'd sure like to understand." Jacob's scratchy morning voice came from the entrance to the kitchen. He was chewing on his jaw, the tension and restraint in his body visible.

"Jake!" I said, pushing Edward aside and walking to him, coffee forgotten. He had pulled on his jeans but was beautifully bare otherwise. All temptation of Edward evaporated like the dew on leaves when it sees the sun. But before I could reach him, touch him, Edward's jealousy reared its head.

"So, are you the friend she _texted_ on the drive here?" Edward sneered, his petulant temper at not getting what he wanted stoking his jealousy.

"I guess I am…" Jake admitted, pain gnawing at his features at the word "friend." "You must be the asshole who broke her heart."

"I drove her home. I spent the night; I think that's all pretty clear. Now, why don't you leave?" Edward had the audacity to say. All of the understanding I thought we'd reached the night before evaporated, wisping out the window Rose had left open above the kitchen sink.

"You may have spent the night on the couch, little man, but I was in her bed," Jake pointed out, stepping closer to Edward. Edward's anger flared, contorting his face into someone I didn't recognize.

"Please, look at you; what are you, the pool boy? Nothing but a bed-warmer." Edward slammed his fist down on the counter, taking a step forward.

"Cut it out!" I yelled, knowing that while Edward was strong and could hold his own, Jacob would break him to pieces if this got out of my control.

Edward's face was hard with anger. "Sniffing around the broken remains like a dog; that's all you are!"

"Don't get me upset, or things are going to get very, very ugly." Jacob's body was coiled, his restraint faltering as Edward seethed at him.

"I will do whatever I fucking please!" He changed direction then, and instead of coming at Jacob, he reached out to grab me. When I shrunk back, moving closer to Jacob's body, Edward's beautiful green eyes flashed black, and he lunged forward.

That's how, with one small movement, Jacob brought our world crashing down. He stepped back, Aikido style, letting Edward's body follow him around at full speed, whipping him around, and then Jake pushed, just enough to make Edward stumble backwards, just enough to deflect an attack.

Edward's head slammed against coffee table in the living room, making a soft, wet thud at the impact.


	17. Chapter 17

"Edward!" I screamed, pushing past Jacob's frozen figure; icicles formed from the tips of his fingers. The body was lying on the ground, unmoving but breathing. I pulled him up into my arms. "Edward, come on, Edward!"

Jacob started pacing behind me, shaking off the frost, moving his hands erratically and mumbling. Cradling Edward in my arms, I rocked him, hoping to pull him back to consciousness with my movements. After a beat, a shadow of a man came over. "Is he…hurt?"

"He's okay; he's gonna be okay…"

"Okay, okay, it's okay…" he chanted, retreating to the edge of the ornate carpet Rosalie had found, twitching his hands from his hair to his sides. "I'm okay. This isn't, I mean, I didn't, fuck…I…almost, but no, it's okay…"

"What's going on?" Rosalie called from the kitchen, our altercation having roused her. Seeing me on the floor, she gasped, "Who's… Oh, shit!" She looked down at the blood spreading across my hand from Edward's head and then immediately up at Jacob. "What did you do!"

"No, it's- I…I'm not…it's okay…" Jake continued his pacing, not looking at her.

"Edward," I said again, louder, shaking him and hoping that the wound on his head wasn't bad but unsure how to tell. His eyelids fluttered softly. "Edward, come on; come on, honey!"

"What happened here?" Rose demanded, stalking toward Jacob.

"It's not… he just… I wasn't trying to…" Jacob continued behind us.

"He hit his head; he's okay." I looked up at Rose, pleading with her. I didn't know if Jacob could recover if he hurt Edward, no matter how much he'd deserved it. "Rose, do you think he's okay?"

"I don't know. I…I'll go wake Em." Rose ran back to her room, her slippers skidding against the linoleum floor.

"There's no… I mean… he was… I didn't… Bella!" Jake stopped and looked at me with a crazed look in his eye. "I didn't!"

"Jake, I need you to calm down." I held his eyes, trying to keep his focus on me and not on the blood oozing down my leg into Rosalie's carpet, but I watched as his gaze tracked the red running across my hands and leg, and his body wrenched back, his eyes black with pain.

Before I could say anything, Emmett came fast into the living room in his boxers. "What's going on?" When he saw Edward, he looked immediately at Jacob. "What the fuck, man!" he seethed before rushing to me, examining Edward's wound quickly and pulling on what little medical training he had from the fire station.

"Bella…" Edward groaned, his eyes fluttering open and closed.

"Oh, thank God… Shhh, shhh, Edward, it's okay; it's okay…"

"Can you hear us?"

"Yeah…" he choked out, trying to sit up.

"No, no, just lay down; I've got you…"

"He's okay… see… he's okay…I didn't hurt him… there's no… I mean… it was the table… and I didn't even… fuck… I'm not…" Jacob's ranting was getting louder, his pacing and hair-pulling becoming almost manic, but I couldn't take care of both of them.

"He's got a bad concussion and a good cut, but nothing serious, I don't think. We should dress the wound-doesn't look like it needs stitches or anything-and get him sitting down and see how he does."

"Do we need to take him to a doctor?" Rose asked from the kitchen, wringing her hands.

"No," I said too quickly, not wanting anyone else involved. "No, we don't need a doctor. We don't need anyone… he's fine, right? We'll just keep him here until he's okay."

"Look, if he starts throwing up or blacking out or anything, we have to take him to the hospital." Emmett looked behind him at Jake's hunched shoulders.

"Okay…" I agreed. "Edward, are you okay to move? Can we get you up on the couch?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's good."

Emmett and I pulled him up while Rosalie got the first aid kit from the bathroom. We walked his body the few paces to the couch slowly, settling him down gently. I pulled Edward's bloody shirt off of him, revealing his thin, muscular body. He was keeping his eyes open and seemed to be doing better minute by minute.

"Is he okay? I mean, is he doing okay? Is everything okay… fuck!"

I sat down, and Edward's head fell against my chest; he was dizzy and exhausted. Emmett covered him with a blanket as Rose returned with hydrogen peroxide and gauze.

"Fuck… why did I… fuck…" Jacob's ranting was picking up again, his fists clenching and unclenching in time with his pacing.

"Bella…" Edward moaned again, and I stroked his face, soothing him as Emmett cleaned his wound.

"Okay, it's not that deep; I think he's just going to have a bad headache for a while."

"I'm okay, really…"

"You're lucky," I said down to him, unable to conceal my anger with him despite the instinct to take care of him.

"He's awake? That's good, right? That's a good thing… I mean… if he's awake, then… you know… he's okay… there's nothing… you know… I didn't…"

"What the fuck happened?" Emmett turned fiercely on Jake now that Edward's injury was under control.

"I didn't... there wasn't time… I mean…" Jacob's hands were pulling at his hair, his body shaking slightly.

"You know, I stood by you, you mother fucker, and then you bring this here?" I had never seen Emmett as anything other than a gentle bear, a big brother, but right now, he was frightening.

"Emmett! Jake didn't do this, okay? It was Edward!"

"It wasn't… it was so fast… I mean, the table was… fuck!" Jake's pace was getting frantic; I was beginning to worry he was going to hurt himself.

"What the fuck happened?"

"My bloody ex-boyfriend here is a prick; Jake didn't do anything, okay?"

"Hey…" Edward whined.

"Bella, come on…" Emmett, despite his allegiance to Jacob, looked at me with disbelief.

"Emmett, I promise you, this isn't Jake's fault. Edward lunged at me, and Jake just moved us out of the way; he didn't even hit him, just pushed him away."

"It was so fast… and the blood is… oh, my God… fuck… there's no…fuck…"

"Em, he's freaking out, but he didn't do this, okay? He didn't!"

"Okay, Bella… I… Okay."

"I can take care of Edward, okay? I promise if he blacks out or throws up or anything weird, I'll put him in the truck and take him to the hospital, but I need you to help Jake. I can't take care of both of them right now."

"Fuck. What do you want me to do?"

"Get me Jake's phone, then take him to the fire station or for a run or something, okay? He needs to work this off before he's going to listen to any of us."

"Yeah, go walk the dog…" Edward muttered against me, and I had to resist the urge to push him off the couch and kick him in the head repeatedly myself.

Emmett ran upstairs and grabbed Jake's phone and a shirt for him.

"Come on, brother, put this on, okay? We're gonna go to the station… come on… You wait here while I go get dressed, okay?"

"Em, man, I didn't, I fucking swear to God…"

"I know, big man; it's okay. Come on, let's just go blow off some steam." Emmett patted him on the shoulder before handing me the phone.

"Rose, I need you to do me a favor," I called to where she was standing skeptically away from us.

"What?" Rose was not quite ready for what she'd witnessed already this morning.

"I'm going to call Billy and check in, but I need you to call Paul, okay? Ask him to go over there this morning."

"Bella…"

"Rose. Please."

"Can I sit up?" Edward asked, trying to move himself.

"Sure, are you okay?" I asked, hovering close as he pulled himself to a sitting position next to me.

"Yeah, I'm…I'm okay, I think; I'm just tired."

"I know. I'll get you some water, okay? And some Tylenol."

"Okay, thanks, Bella."

The personalities around me were each at their breaking point: Rose was putting herself aside for someone other then Royce for the first time since I'd known her, Edward had gotten not only his body but his ego and sense of self deeply injured, and Jake…

Standing up, I approached Jacob slowly, afraid to startle him. Edward was sitting still, his eyes closed, but he was doing okay while Rosalie dialed her phone in the other room. "Jake, honey, Jake, look at me…"

"Bella… I'm so sorry."

"No, no, baby, you didn't do anything wrong."

"I can't believe I… I mean, he was so… but I didn't…"

"Jacob, come on, look at me."

He wouldn't meet my gaze though; his reality was firmly planted in the past, his definition of self clouded with visions of another boy, bloody and broken lying beneath his feet. The vision flashed between us, and before I could reach him, it was over, forever bound to this morning in his psyche.

I reached out over the ocean dividing us, spanning the growing distance and refusing to let him slip away.

"No," he said, snapping away from me before I could reach him. A canyon opened in the ground between us; no matter how I tried, I couldn't cross it. I was left to drown in the harbor.

"Jake, please…"

"No… I'm not… I'm not good." He turned and walked out the front door, waiting for Emmett in the early morning fog.

The moments were spinning together too quickly; everything was happening too fast. I couldn't keep up with the realities and possibilities being hurled at me all at once. I knew that Edward needed to be okay; he needed to be kept awake and taken care of. I needed to do this for Jake as much as for Edward… if something happened to him or if I had to take him into town and try to explain the situation… Jake wouldn't survive a misunderstanding with the entire town like the one that happened with Emmett this morning.

I had jumped into action this morning without taking the time to think, just knowing that no matter what, I had to make this okay. Jake was too good, too… For once in my life, I was out of words; Jacob was outside of any description I could imagine. He was simply good.

And now I needed to continue; I had to do what I could to make this right and trust that Emmett could get Jake some perspective. There were times when men needed each other more than they needed us, when they needed to act more than they needed to talk. I walked into the kitchen to get Edward some water and Tylenol.

"I know, Paul. Can you do this for Jake, okay? It's not for me…"

"Do you need me to talk to him?" I whispered, knowing that Rosalie was doing something extremely painful and difficult, and she was doing it for me.

"No, it's okay, Bella."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Sorry, Bella was just… yeah… okay… thanks, Paul… I will… I'll see you later… Bye."

"Okay, he'll go over in like an hour." Rosalie looked at me hard, appraising me coldly, like she was doing a risk analysis on simply knowing me.

"Thanks, Rose. I really… I appreciate it."

"Okay, Bella. I just hope you know what you're doing."

"I do," I said, and finally, I did. The picture of my existence stretched and snapped, suddenly clear and crisp. I knew exactly what I was doing for the first time in my entire life.

"Okay, where is he?" Emmett asked, buttoning his fly as he walked out into the kitchen.

"He's on the porch… Em… Thanks… Take care of him, okay?"

"He's not going to deal with this well, you know… the thing with Mike, seriously, it almost killed him."

"I know."

"I don't know that you do, Bella…" Emmett looked down at me, his face dark with worry.

"Bring him back to me, okay?"

"I'll try."

I followed Emmett back out to the living room and gave Edward his water; he was a sickly grey color and a little clammy, but otherwise seemed fine. "Take these."

"Bella, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you ought to be," I said, sitting on the floor because I didn't want to be touching him now that we was well enough to sit up.

"Really…"

"Edward, shut up, okay?"

I opened Jake's phone and pulled his number up from speed dial.

"Billy? Hi, it's Bella. Yeah …um…he had a hard night, okay? Paul's going to come over in a little while just to help with anything you need. Are you okay? Yeah… No, no, everything's okay… He went to the station… do you need? No…um…well…" I looked up at Edward, considering Billy's desire to know what was going on with his son and weighing it against how much information Edward should have access to.

"Cha hìtkwotaítali…yeah…chi pá… No…cha Ti'iyahl Edward basí?a… Kíkali… I know… okay… thanks, Billy. You call me if you need anything, okay? Okay… yeah… bye."

"What was that?" Edward asked, his eyes drooping.

"What?"

"What did you say; what was that?"

"Oh, um, that was Quileute."

"That a language?"

"Yeah, it's Jacob's language."

"Oh, was that his name? Your new pet?"

"Don't start – you already have a concussion; I don't want to have to stab you in the eye, too."

"You're such a feisty little kitten, Bella. I like this new you."

"Well, don't get used to it. As soon as you can drive, you're heading back to Seattle."

"Hmmm, so when did you learn this new language?"

"I only know a few phrases."

"But enough to tell someone something you didn't want me to hear."

"Just enough for that…"

"Bella, who is this guy? Why are you protecting him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind. I just hope you don't fall in love with him."

"It's really none of your business," I said, standing up, ready to be further away from him.

"Bella, sit down with me. I… we never finished talking."

"I'm going to throw on some clothes and make breakfast… Do you want the TV on or something?"

"Why aren't you willing to talk to me?"

"Because… Edward… you have no idea what you've done."

"I haven't done anything. I'm fighting for you, for us… you're everything to me; you've been everything to me since I first saw you. You…you sing to me."

"You don't see anything; you don't have any concept of what I'm even talking about."

"I can see you, Bella. I've changed, and I can be what you need now. If you'd only look back at me, you'd see. You'd forgive me, and we'd… we'd…"

"I see you just fine." I shook my head, unable to fathom how he could be so oblivious of everything that had happened around him this morning. Concussion or no, he was just too concerned with Edward to see anyone else. "I'll be right back."

He watched me leave from his spot on my couch, but there was nothing he could do about my retreat.

Upstairs, I felt the tears coming. Where was Jacob? I mean, I knew he was with Emmett…but this morning, I'd seen a ghost; his beautiful spirit fell like a star. Where was the Jacob who brightened the world just by being in it? I didn't realize how fragile he was. He'd been so good about me needing to see Edward and even about him staying; I didn't see how deeply afraid he was.

He'd tried to exorcise his devils, but he couldn't see the angel wings just beneath his skin. And now he was catching his death of cold, walking in the rain. I took a deep breath, praying that Emmett could warm him up, burn off the steam, and bring him back to me.

I reached for my dresser to get out some clothes and saw my poetry book lying open to the much-read story. Jacob must have been looking through it last night.

_When I said I'd give my right arm for you, I didn't think you'd ask me for it, but you did._

_You said, Give it to me._

_And I said OK._

_I believed you wouldn't have asked me for it unless you really wanted it, and needed it._

_But then, when you got it, you bronzed it and put it on the mantel over the fireplace in the den._

What had I lost in my love for Edward? What had I sacrificed? Was it more than anyone else had given in the name of young love? Could I be who I am now without him, without the pain and devastation? I read along, the tears of my heartbreak an echo from the past. Edward…his hold on me was shattered, his music just the soundtrack to a memory. Being with him had felt like the old days, but my evolution couldn't just stop and wait at the side of the road. It was a painful admission…but I didn't want him.

_I couldn't tell you that you can't re-do a thing that's been undone. I couldn't tell you anything that you would understand. I couldn't tell you that it wasn't just the fact that you had ripped it out of me and taken it and mounted it, then left with it then lost it, how it wasn't only that, but it was more. …_

Edward's declarations of love left me cold with a chill emanating through my bones when I thought about it, now, with this new perspective. In the moment of crisis, the reality was that Edward was not someone I trusted. I'd wanted to know the same thing everyone wanted to know, and the answer was no – you can never go back.

_And then I thought, but this was only half a thought, that even if you had changed, no really, really changed, … that I would never believe you again, never forget what I know of you, never forget what you've done to me, what you will do; I'll never believe the myth of forgiveness between us._

Jacob, he was a hurricane in my life, a whirlwind of feelings and realizations that I was never prepared for, and he needed me. He needed me to be strong for him, just the way he could be strong for me. He made me feel powerful and safe in the same breath. He was the blue sky breaking through the clouds, he was the morning sun, giving me a reason to get out of bed, and he was the fragrant taste of rain.

And then it came to me: the words, the moments... the picture complete. I forgot about Edward, still leaking blood from his useless head on the couch downstairs. I forgot about Rose, standing under the steam of the shower and rebuilding her strength after a morning of compromise. I forgot about Emmett, so strong and loyal. I grabbed my notebook, and I wrote; I wrote all of the words that had been quivering in my brain. They solidified before me on the page, creating something that I would never need to edit; I would never need to change it because its pure truth was evident upon every reading.

I wrote furiously, hardly able to keep ahead of the flow. The star in my sky was too bright to ignore anymore as it illuminated the page. I wrote until each word, each thought stared back at me; my writing was a stark contrast against the paper. I was the child-happily swinging on a tire and jumping out into the bay-who would never stop believing.

By the time I came downstairs, Edward was annoyed, and Rosalie was drinking coffee in the kitchen, but despite the atmosphere of anger, I was radiated in joy.

"Paul called," Rosalie said, walking out to meet me in the living room. "He said Billy is fine but that he wants to know what's going on when he gets here with Royce. I didn't tell him anything; I'm not getting involved in this mess."

"That's okay, Rose. You've done so much already." I reached out and hugged her - a display of affection rarely seen from me and never with Rosalie.

"Oh, um, okay…" she said awkwardly as she wrapped her arms around me, careful not to spill her coffee.

"Edward… how are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm okay…" His eyes were sad but alert. It seemed he'd begun to see it now... see the part of me that had belonged to him disappearing.

I busied myself with making breakfast and put Tom Waits on the iPod; Edward hummed along in the living room. Rose kept watching me, like I was going to fall apart or shatter onto the ground at any moment. She didn't know that I was held together now with something stronger than dreams.

Soon, Edward and I were eating eggs and toast in the living room, and his color was returning to normal. He'd had some coffee and seemed to be doing fine.

"Mama!" Royce called as he ran into the house and back into the kitchen, leaving a trail of toy bag and jacket behind him. Paul walked in behind him quickly, a look of consternation on his face.

"Bella?"

"Yeah, hey, Paul." I looked up with my new hope shining in my eyes.

"Where's Shípa? What the fuck is going on?" He glared from me to Edward, taking in his half-dressed state. "Bella, what the fuck is this?"

"You've got some really great new friends," Edward muttered.

Paul's face hardened into a sneer. "What have you done to him?"

"What? Paul! Nothing!"

"You fucking Hókwat'! You're just like her!"

"Paul, this isn't about us," Rosalie said softly from the doorway.

"Jesus Christ, this place is a fucking nuthouse. Bella, seriously, what are you doing here?"

"Shut up!" Rosalie and I yelled at Edward together.

"Where's Jacob?" Paul demanded, his temper barely in check.

"He's at the station, okay? He's with Emmett. Look, ass-face here provoked him, and now he's all freaked out. He needed some time to blow off steam." Edward flinched but didn't protest at the moniker I used for him. "Thank you for checking on Billy. It's one less thing Jake needs to worry about… really, thank you."

"You're taking care of him…" Paul looked at me in confusion, clearly unused to the concept.

"I'm trying."

Paul stuffed his hands into his pockets. "All right then… sorry."

"It's okay, Paul. You're taking care of him, too." I smiled, knowing that the man standing before me was Jacob's family. He may not be perfect, but this strange little world I lived in now included him.

"Who are you?" a sweet voice asked from the other end of the couch.

"Oh, uh, I'm… I'm a friend of Bella's, I guess."

"Where are your clothes?" Children have a way of cutting to the meat of a moment without thinking about it.

"Hey, Roy, I put his shirt in the washer. Silly man fell and bumped his head! Got blood on his shirt."

"Oww. Do you need a band-aid?"

"Um, no… I have one." Edward leaned forward to show the boy his bandage.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Edward." He smiled down at him uncomfortably. Of course Edward wouldn't be comfortable with children. Another piece of my resolve fell into place. The life I would have had with Edward would never include the easy sweetness of a child like Royce.

"Okay! I'm Royce! Mama, can I have a snack? I want a muffin; did Emmett make muffins? I like muffins; they're good, especially the purple ones; did Emmett make them with blueberries so they'd be purple? It's funny when muffins are purple."

As I smiled after them, Paul trailing behind slowly, Edward said something that shocked me back into the moment and out of my reverie. "You never looked at me like that, you know?"

I smiled at him sadly, knowing that he saw it fully now; with his image of who I was no longer superimposed upon me, now he could see what had been sitting before him all along.

"No, I guess I never did."

"Okay then…"

"Edward, I will always love you."

"'Til all time is gone…"

"Even after."

"I… I guess I should go…" he said, standing up with more strength than I'd expected.

"Okay…" I got up to go to the basement, hoping his shirt was dry.

When I came back, Edward was gone, probably upstairs in the bathroom, and instead, a sea of blood filled the room - Jacob stood dejectedly in the doorway, his eyes blank and the sky behind him the color of lead.

"Jake…" I said, stepping toward him only to find my feet slowed by the ooze that clung to me like molasses.

"Don't, Bella. I'm just… I'll just get my stuff, okay?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't you get it?" he asked, looking at me without passion. "I can't do this anymore… I can't… be friends with you anymore."

"Are you breaking up with me?" The words tumbled out, so desperate and immature in their earnest truth.

"I'm not good enough for you anymore..."

I wished I was Moses. I wished I could part this sea of blood spanning between us and run through it into my promise land, into Jacob's arms. But instead, I was held to the shore, a prisoner of the tide, left to watch as he grabbed his jacket and keys and walked out of my life.

* * *

**Quileute used:**

**Cha hìtkwotaítali (He has a heavy heart, or he is sick with his heart)…yeah…chi pá (a little while ago)…No… cha Ti'iyahl Edward basí?a (This man, Edward, he's worthless)…Kíkali (He ran away from me)…I know…okay…thanks, Billy, you call me if you need anything, okay? Okay… yeah… bye."**

**Poor Sweet Jake...**


	18. Chapter 18

**I'm SO sorry for the delay on this. Hopefully future chapters will get through the Twilighted BETA process faster. Hope you enjoy! :) Pav**

* * *

Edward stayed with us through Monday morning - Emmett wasn't convinced he should drive so far alone until the next day. He slept another night on the couch, this time without complaint. Edward was feeling better and was back to his usual, dry humor, and everything he said rubbed Emmett the wrong way. I made lasagna while Emmett watched a football game; Edward was forced to sit and rest, thereby being subjected to Emmett's exuberance.

"I can't believe you actually yell at the television over a ball. You're such a stereotype."

"You not understanding the rules doesn't make it okay for you to be an ass about the game."

"I understand the rules. The ones in the blue with the really tight pants and running the ball down the field to the-"

"_Stop_ _talking_!"

"Really? You can't even have a conversation while this game is-"

"_Stop_ _talking_ _or_ _get_ _another_ _concussion!_"

"You two play nice," I called out, thoroughly amused by Edward and Emmett's inherent differences.

Rosalie laughed as she and Royce worked on a puzzle at the kitchen table - our little family, strange as it was, happy in our Sunday evening rituals. The week stretched out before us, but somehow, being together, we were able to shore up our reserves to get through it. Life was a little like a war zone sometimes, but my side, we had the best foxholes.

"I'm amazed Jake managed to stop from killing him…" Em muttered as he walked back into the kitchen during a commercial.

"Well, in his defense, Edward didn't talk much when Jake was here…"

The pop of the can and hiss of the carbonation filled the air that had gone silent between us.

"Em…"

…

…

…

"I don't know, Bella. I just don't know…"

"He left without saying anything."

"I figured; he didn't say much at the station."

"Why is he being so stubborn?"

"He just needs time."

"Hey, your excuse for homosexual ass grabbing is back on!" Edward called.

"I'm going to be really glad when he leaves."

"I know, Em, I know," I laughed, going back to chopping vegetables for the salad while the lasagna baked.

I slept fitfully that night. I dreamed I was on a boat, floating in a sea of fire. The oars incinerated as soon as I lowered them; I could smell blood in the wire and death in the wind. I lay in my floating coffin, slowly dying from dehydration as the fire burned off the moisture in the air.

Edward left early the next morning, having coffee with Rosalie and me before climbing back into his Volvo and speeding away. His departure was painful, if only because I knew it would be a long time before I saw him again. There was no reason for us to be in contact, other than the memory of a future we didn't have. From time to time, one of us would email or write, we'd visit if we were in the same town, probably cry and laugh, but in reality, there was nothing tangible between us that we could quantify.

I gave Jacob the time I could, trying to respect his space and his need to process through everything that had happened. But I was nagged with the constant thought that he didn't have the perspective to see things clearly. I prayed his misconceptions wouldn't break my heart.

I spent the time writing furiously, finding a new voice that had been silenced by my fear. Two weeks passed, and I still hadn't heard from Jacob. Somehow, every time I drove by, he wasn't there, and every time I called, there was no answer. Billy had been kind enough when I'd seen him but seemed to accept his son's self-inflicted isolation without question. He smiled at me like a stranger from behind his screen door when I begged to be let in.

I woke often to find myself alone, drowning in the sky with my blanket thrown off, making me cold from my body to soul. The night my dreams were the worst, I woke to find clouds thick with lightning swarmed like a hive of bees, chasing me from my dreams. The sky crashed loudly, stopping time and thought in its reverberation. Royce screamed downstairs, quieting quickly as his mother held him and soothed his fear.

But there was no one here to sooth mine; it was hungry, waiting in the silence between explosions, gnawing its way out and eating me through. I was losing him. I was not the kind to chase after; I didn't put up a fight when life cast me about in the undertow. But midnight was burning, and the sky was ablaze, and I was running out of time.

The wind was whipping around the trees outside, forcing the rain into every dry crevice. I wished it would carry me away from here, to someplace where this craziness was over and I could just be with him; a place where Rosalie didn't walk on a tightrope around me, knowing that I was losing him.

It was getting harder everyday to remember how to breathe, to remember how to walk with purpose. He had all the cards, and there was nothing I could do. I just wasn't the type to put up a fight. I guessed I was the type you leave behind. A flash went up outside my window as the lightning stuck the tree by the house. I watched, frozen, as it shook from the impact and teetered between crashing down on me and choosing another direction.

The thunder in the night taught me something I will never forget. Every moment is a precipice, a time and place that will never happen again. What's any of it for if you don't make a choice? I was sitting here, the embers burning out in my eyes, letting the rain turn me into smoke, while the tipping point was happening all around me, and I was losing him.

I wanted to be the new Bella, the me who would walk down the line in the middle of the street and scream. I was here; _she_ was here. She batted away the attack of my fear, begging me to cry-to scream-to act-to fight because damn it! I was losing him!

I looked at the stack of papers in the manila envelopes on my desk. There were two - one for Claire and one for me. The work I'd cranked out the past months was the best I'd ever done, and most of it could use an editor, but some of it… some of it was something special. Combined with my older pieces, it came together - a story. But I hadn't mailed it; there was still something missing.

Swallowing hard, I jumped in. I grabbed my notebook and hand-copied the one piece I hadn't included, the one that was too… me… too frightening to show the world. But if I was honest, it was, out of all of them, the only one that mattered. I copied it down and stuffed it into the envelope and sealed it. I didn't let myself think. I pulled on my jeans, took both envelopes downstairs, and in the dark, I stepped out into the rain, each drop a star in the black sky, and put them both into the mailbox.

I raised my arms to the air and welcomed the onslaught the rain brought to me, the wind pulling my hair over my eyes and finally allowing me to see. I was a priestess, a demi-god, worshipping the ferocity of nature. Letting it drench me with its purity, I cried along with the howl of the wind until I had no tears left.

After that night, I set about my life with new energy. Each class was exciting and each student's insights inspiring. I continued the pace of my writing, sometimes my own work. The weeks passed, and Jacob still would not return my calls or see me. I'd see him sometimes in town, and he'd look away, his eyes burnt out like the headlights on a car, an umbrella of denial settling between us.

I could only hope that time was what he might need to gather the courage to come back home. His face hovered in the corner of my mind, and no matter what I was doing, I wanted him with me. I would go visit his tree and sit in its shade, finding peace just being close to him. His art was a living, breathing thing. And when I was near it, I could close my eyes and feel the warmth of his skin against me.

With a car full of essays to grade on a Friday afternoon, I drove slowly past Jacob's house on a route completely not in the right direction to get to the store on my way home; his white Rabbit was in the driveway. My heart beat faster; he's here. The darkness that had been filling my eyes faded, and I could see the sun streaming down on him.

I was finally able to catch Jacob at his house. I pulled in along the gravel drive, the sound of my approach loud against my ears. He was in a black tank top and cargo pants, sledge hammer in hand. He had earphones in while he was working, lifting the sledgehammer above his head. His muscles stretched and contracted under his shirt as he leaned in with force, bringing it down hard on the concrete in front of him.

He was destroying the small sidewalk running from his door to the driveway. His legs were strong and firm as he lifted quickly, bringing the hammer over his head before swinging again, fast and firm. I watched him for a few moments, leaning against the car and taking in the view.

I spotted another hammer on the ground and took off my blouse, so I had on just a tank-top and walked over to him. With the hammer over my shoulder, I must have been quite a sight because when he looked up, he about dropped the sledgehammer in his hand onto his foot.

"What are we doing?"

"Ummm… I'm putting in a new walk." He looked at me as if he couldn't register who I was.

"Okay." I picked up my hammer and slammed it on the ground, making the concrete crack and the impact reverberate up my arm.

"Bella… why are you here?"

"I'm putting in a new walk. Jeez, you're slow sometimes."

I ignored his glare as he stood there watching me. I slammed into the concrete again and again, the sidewalk cracking apart and creating a map out of mortar and dust. The pieces split as I worked, using my muscles, my body, in a way I was unaccustomed to but that was a welcome change - a release of everything I held in, of all of the pains my body remembered.

He grunted and joined me in my work, not speaking or engaging with me at all, but working next to me in silence. We began on opposite ends, working toward each other, destruction in our wake as we came together. His pace was faster than mine, his body strong and able. But I worked with determination, pinning my hopes and need for him on our progress.

I watched as the pieces separated from the whole, deconstructing what had been created so long ago. Why was Jacob doing this? Was it a home improvement? If I was going to be honest, there where other things his small home could use more. He took care of it, but it was old enough to need some work, and the walk was relatively insignificant in the scheme of things.

As I swung my hammer, my muscles aching from using them, I understood. I was gaining perspective. This was what Jake did. He destroyed and rebuilt; he was creating. Why the walkway though? Why not his sculpture or the hotbox? What was he doing here?

We worked away through the afternoon light; we didn't speak or touch, just worked, destroying and dissecting the old concrete walk. The contractor bags were heavy and full as the sun moved down and twilight descended. I was hot and tired but content being here. Jacob and I had plenty to talk about, but being here, side by side, working with him, I was at peace.

My thoughts drifted, but eventually, I was blank, grounded in the ache of my muscles and the progress of our work. Everything else faded away, and I was simply doing – being. And I was the happiest I'd been in almost a month, simply existing with Jake by my side.

The porch light flicked on from the house, and Billy called out to us, "Getting late. Come on; I'm making grilled cheese."

"Old man, don't you mess with that stove. I'm tired of you catching your shirt on fire!" Jacob smiled. It was the first thing I'd heard him say in hours.

"Bella, you staying?" Billy called.

"No… she's not… I'll be inside in a minute, Dad," Jake said shortly, the humor lost in his voice. He turned to me, and the face he wore was not Jacob's; it was the face of a man lost, shut down and locked away inside himself. The afternoon's work therapy may have helped me, but he was still far away.

"Jake…"

"Don't, Bella… just… go, okay?"

"What? I'm good enough for home construction but not grilled cheese?" I winked, hoping to bring him back, smooth the way for him.

"That's not… you know that's not what I mean."

"This was nice - us here, today, working, being together. Wasn't it?"

Jacob's face softened, looking at me, and then quickly, he turned the lock and was gone.

"It was a mistake; you shouldn't be here."

"Why? Jacob, why won't you talk to me?"

"Because I can't."

"You can; you can tell me anything. I don't understand. Everything's fine. Edward is fine, and he's gone, and… I need you."

"It's not that, Bella. It's me! It's this thing inside me!"

"I don't understand. I don't understand what you're afraid of."

"I just… I hate feeling… out of control. Feeling like I can't be sure of myself — like you shouldn't be around me, like maybe nobody should. Like I'm a monster who might hurt somebody."

"Jake, I know you; I know you would never hurt me."

"Sometimes I'm afraid that I'm losing myself…."

"I won't let that happen…" I reached out, hoping that if I could touch him, if I could just reach him, he would listen.

"How? How can you stop it?"

"I'll tell you! I'll tell you everyday how special you are." I was close enough to touch him now, but as I reached out, desperate, his skin calling out to me and begging me to sooth his fears, he evaporated into the air.

He shook his head, his eyes hardening as his jaw clenched. "You need to go now. Go and don't come back."

"Jacob, why are you so afraid?"

I stood in his yard in the darkness and watched as he shut down and turned back to his home, hearing the click of the lock in his door as he shut me out of his life. How was time going to help this? How was time going to fix us? Was there anything I could do? Anything I could make out of this disaster?

I looked down at the deconstructed path I was standing in, concrete dust and broken chunks scattered around me. I was standing in the landscape of my life, unable to repair it.

My truck drove smoothly down the road, navigating the dark roads without me. It took me slowly home, winding through the streets I'd driven so many times they were now ingrained in my very being - a part of the definition and make-up of Bella Swan.

Time passed from that point forward slowly and without effect. Nothing could happen now that would rouse my desire or passion; nothing could hurt me more than the look in Jacob's eyes when he told me to leave. There was nothing I could do, nothing I could say to reach him. Because he didn't want to be reached; he didn't want to solve the problem between us.

I watched as the falling rain turned to snow, filling in the holes in the ground and evening out all of the imperfections in a clean blanket of white. I watched out of my window, seeing how each snowflake would lose its beauty when it reached the ground. It was the falling that made it special.

Christmas came and went with only a card from my mother, no promise of a visit or request for me to return home. She was absorbed in her own new life; I was just a painful reminder of the man she'd lost and couldn't truly live without. My family in Forks celebrated with their own, more traditional families, and I wondered if Jacob would be with the Uleys or his father.

I sent a card and cookies via Paul, who would only look at me sadly when I asked about Jake. I stopped asking, seeing the pain in Paul's eyes when he told me that Jacob wasn't talking much to anyone these days. His misery was more than I could bear. He was so afraid, but there were so many people here who believed in him… what had happened so many years ago was proving to be so much more than he could handle.

Time passed, and I questioned my faith. The hardest part was feeling out of control. This misperception had tainted something beautiful that didn't have a chance to take root. But I couldn't help that I was still his. Time wouldn't stop for me, though, and every grind and skip was made all the more painful by the holes in my life.

I felt like I was living someone else's dream, like they had stepped aside when things stopped going right and left me to stumble through another winter day. The cold was a relief from the fire of my dreams. I was living in extremes, unable to find my balance.

I spent time with Alice and her boyfriend Jasper, and I had a surprisingly close friendship blooming with Angela. There were people here who I could be myself with, let the pretenses and expectations fall away like I was shedding my skin. And yet, everything happened through a film of Jacob; his absence was tangible in every moment.

If the heart can die from malnutrition, mine was starving. I was wasting away, famished without him. My need ate away at me from the inside, leaving me hollow and empty. What substitute could be found once you had found the very thing you craved? Sustenance was no longer enough, now that I had known joy. Jacob was my strength and my weakness. Without him, I was a shell, lost in a sea of lava, disintegrating under the weight of my loss.


	19. Chapter 19

"Alice, no... why do you do this to me?" I whined, wanting nothing more than to spend this cold winter day in Angela's storeroom.

"You've been here all morning, and I need to go to Port Angeles to get supplies. Besides, you're in desperate need of new clothes."

"No, you're not taking me shopping."

"Why not? You've had the same shirt on the last three times I've seen you!"

"It's not normal for you to notice these things."

"Come on, let's go."

"Ange..."

"I'm not getting involved. Evil little monster you call a friend might try to make me go too."

"Ohh, can I dress you, Angela? Please? I promise you'll love it."

"I'm fine the way I am."

"You wear nothing but black!"

"I like black."

"Come on, a little make-up would do wonders too."

"I wear makeup."

"Black eyeliner does not a full face make!"

"Alice..."

"Bella, you better come with me... I don't know how much Angela would enjoy me bringing my middle school caboodles set over here."

"Okay, that's it; get out." Angela was smiling despite herself. Their differences were really only superficial. My A-team, Angela and Alice, were the best people on the planet.

"I'll go with you for supplies but no clothes."

"We'll see," Alice said smugly as she walked out of the dusty store room, leaving Angela and me to roll our eyes in unison.

The morning so far had passed pleasantly, coffee and the Sunday paper at home. I had the house to myself all weekend as Royce was with Paul, and Rosalie was at Emmett's. It was quiet and peaceful; I was learning to enjoy my time alone, the silence no longer deafening. I was even starting to be able to sleep without the light on. As much as my heart ached for Jacob, I was learning to live beneath the shadow of his absence.

Angela had gotten a delivery of books this morning. Her business was doing well, and she was savvy at it. Her store had a rare combination of used and new books. There was always something exciting for those of us looking for treasures, but she also made sure to keep a stock of popular and interesting new releases.

The theatre down the street had partnered with her to do a series of movies inspired by books, so she had just gotten a delivery of Whuthering Heights -the movie would be showing for the next two weeks. I had made it a point to let my students know that anyone who read and wrote a short comparison of the book and movie would receive extra credit for the semester. I really hoped Claire and Seth weren't the only ones who would be doing the assignment... again...

Alice drove quickly in her old yellow car -I didn't know what it was, but I had a feeling it was a Gremlin or some other, ancient monstrosity that no one but Jacob would be able to keep running. I smiled at the thought of him arguing with her on the phone about the cost of fixing this thing versus getting a new car. I'd overheard them last week, and while he still would not speak to me, the sound of his voice escaping from the phone line was like warm sun shining on my soul.

I was living in love, without the object of my heart, but there was no denying that simply knowing he was out there made the world a brighter place. I could see out from my cave, sheltered from his rays, happy that he existed.

"So what are we buying today?"

"I need a flambé torch."

"Okay... is that for cooking or pyromania?"

"My mom is having one of her big parties, and I've convinced her to let me be the pastry chef... I need to do something really special."

"That's so great, Alice!"

"Yeah... I'm really excited... I love making the bread and the Soup Factory, but... I'd really like to have something of my own."

"You will."

"Thanks, Bella; you're the best."

"Yeah, well..."

"No, I mean it. I've never met anyone with so much... self to give."

"Oh... wow, Alice..."

"No, shut up. I'm done with the nicey-nice now."

Alice and I spent the day chatting and laughing; she told me about Jasper's newest, strange obsession: Civil War reenactments. He was a strange duck, but there was no denying that he adored her.

I managed to convince Alice that I didn't need new work clothes, so after seven shops and four new tops, she was satisfied that I would be stocked at least until our next adventure.

The snow was falling thickly by the time I got home, and Alice wanted to get back to her place before the roads got too bad, so we canceled our dinner plans for the night, promising to do something later in the week instead. She kissed me warmly on the cheek; she smelled like caramel.

Inside, I found Paul sitting on the couch with Emmett, watching the football game. It made me balk at the strangeness of the scene before me.

"No fucking way!" Emmett screamed half-standing.

"Ha, you loser, those faggots have nothing on the Eagles."

"Please! Akers is a cocksucker."

"Language," Rosalie called from the kitchen; I guessed Royce was home.

"Ummm... Hi?"

"Hey, Bella!" Emmett waved.

"t'ochóktiya," Paul greeted without looking at me. Since I'd been taking Quileute with Emily and sitting in sometimes on the kid's classes at the school, he'd been getting more and more comfortable with me. All of my Reservation friends had.

Leah and Emily had even invited me along later this week to help look at flowers for Leah and Sam's wedding, which was quickly approaching.

I should talk to Leah about having Alice make the cake...

"What's going on out there?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes at my question.

"Are they like, bonding or something?"

"I don't even know anymore," she whispered conspiratorially. "Paul just showed up here with Royce today, three months' worth of child care payments, and this relaxed attitude. It's like he's sixteen again... I really don't know what to make of it."

Rose was clearly uncomfortable but happy. What a life this was.

"So what do you have there?" She dried her hands on a towel, having finished the dishes.

"Alice took me shopping." I grimaced.

"Oh, she's a good kid. What did you get?" Sitting down, Rose was ready for a fashion show.

As I was pulling out my new shirts to show her, Paul walked in, with a smile in his step, to get beers for himself and Emmett. "So, Paul... who's the Wisatsu'upat?" I said, stopping him in his tracks.

"What?" He spun around, looking at me with wide eyes.

"Please; it's not hard to guess."

"What are you talking about?" Rose asked, her eyes narrowing at me. She didn't like not knowing what was going on. Control was a difficult thing for Rose to lose, and she especially disliked it when I spoke Quileute to Paul or Royce.

As beautiful and strong as she was, Rosalie's insecurities ran deep.

"There's no..."

"Right, Paul. Who is she?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Rose said, her eyes wide. A flicker of hurt could be seen, but only if you knew her really well.

"Ummm, her name is Rachel." Paul looked down and... was it possible? He blushed!

"You're in love!" Rose exclaimed a little too loudly, jumping up.

"I was going to tell you, Rosie. I just..."

"No. I mean, no, you don't have to... that's great."

"Yeah... it is..."

"Where... I mean... is she from the Res?"

"Yeah, she's Quileute," he said softly now, not meeting her eyes. I was in the middle of a very important, very private moment. I tried to blend into the chair I was sitting in, willing the color of the kitchen walls to wrap around me and hold me in their insignificance.

"That's... that's good." Rose's head was low, her shoulders bent as old memories of prejudice and hate washed over her.

"It's-well, that makes it easier," he admitted.

"Your parents know her?"

"Yeah... she's one of Jake's cousins, but she lived down on the Quinault Res growing up."

"That's good..."

"Rosie..." He lifted his eyes tentatively. "Rosie, I'm sorry..."

"I know, Paul... me too."

"Hey! Get out here, fucktard - the game's back on," an oblivious Emmett called from the other room. He was just happy to have his friend over without the fighting.

"Language!" Rose called, laughing away her pain and rolling her eyes at the man she loved so much.

Winter waltzed by slowly as I busied myself with writing and teaching. I watched movies, and Emmett and I started working through a new cookbook he'd picked up at Angela's store: Intercourses. Leave it to Emmett to find the one inappropriate recipe book on the planet. But the food was good, and we were enjoying the challenge and camaraderie.

It was February 23rd when Claire received her letter... four days before I received mine. Claire's work showed promise, and she had been accepted to participate in a review of young writers. Three of her pieces were chosen to be considered, but she had work to do to make them sharper, polished. She had proven herself young and talented. She was so much of what I could have been if I'd had the strength she possessed.

Claire was not afraid to say what she thought or take what she needed. She was not someone who would be left. Quil, although an odd and somewhat disturbing partner, was devoted, and in his own way, exactly what she needed. Her work was visceral and raw and, at times, painful to read, but there was power and beauty to everything she did. It transcended the work of most writers. If there was a god, he spoke in broken, painful prose through Claire.

If I was stronger... If I could resist the fear... but here I am... having lost him. I'd stopped calling, stopped going to see him, praying that he would return to me when he'd had enough time. If I couldn't make him listen or see, then I could give him time.

When my letter from the publishing house came, I was a quieter, sadder version of myself. I was happy in my life; I had friends and work that I loved. I had a family here, but there was a hole in my heart where my desolation had built a nest, enjoying the warmth it stole from me, leaving me cold and numb. I opened the letter, sitting at the kitchen table with the warmth of a promised spring coming in through the kitchen window.

Dear Miss Swan,

We regret to tell you that in evaluating the work you sent in, we do not feel it appropriate to include in the anthologies you mentioned in your letter.

I set it down on the table and looked out the window, the tears in my eyes making it impossible to continue reading. I'd never felt more alone. Everything I had worked for... everything I was...

Instead, we invite you to review our notes included in the package coming under separate cover with a contract for a small publication of your own.

Thank you.

My disbelief shocked me out of my stillness. I wanted to tell Jake. I wanted to talk to him, now. God, please don't let it be too late, but I knew... I knew that it wouldn't be. I couldn't let my life pass by without him in it. I knew that what I felt was real, and my feelings wouldn't lie. If what I had written was enough for this... maybe it would be enough for him.

Running outside, I was struck by the sun glaring off of the slowly melting snow in our yard and the clean crisp air waking me up, shocking me into reality. I drove to La Push slowly. I took this drive every day, but it had never meant as much to me as it did now. When I got there, his little white car was gone. It was almost all I could do to keep from screaming out his name.

"Billy," I cried, knocking on the door. "Billy, please!" I couldn't let him go... not yet... why had it taken me so long to fight?

"Bella..."

"Is he here?"

"No, he's out."

"Billy... please."

"I'm sorry, Bella... Maybe, maybe it's just not meant to be."

I stared down at him, incredulous that he would suggest that. How could he think... How could he not know that I belonged to his son? I was free with him; I was his.

"Listen, will you tell him I was here? Will you tell him I need to talk to him? I... I have something to tell him."

"Sure, Bella, I'll tell him, but... I can't promise anything..."

"I know, Billy. Thank you." I threw myself at the handsome man before me, practically crawling into his lap on the wheelchair. I'd spent way too long holding myself back... His arms slowly wrapped around me.

"Billy, why is he doing this?" I sobbed against him, my pain breaking loose, a tidal wave beating against his calm shore.

"Wáli t'àcha?á, tsidá-chid; Wáli t'àcha?á."

On the way home, I went to Angela's bookstore instead. I had an idea...

All three of Claire's pieces had been accepted into the review she submitted to, and she was helping me with some of the edits my work needed. I was surprised at the depth of her insight and understanding. She could look through the words and find exactly what I was trying to say. Despite the fact that I was her teacher, Claire was becoming one of my best friends here.

I worked furiously, getting the edits to my project done quickly and with a ferocity that was unusual for me. I set all of my hopes and dreams on this; I could see the sun, peeking out from behind the clouds, and I was humbled.

On May 3rd, it had been months since I'd spoken to Jacob, and waking up without him was still a surprise. Somehow he had a radar and knew where I'd be and when I'd be there. I suspected that Emmett was giving him a heads up when I would be in La Push, but I never asked. I knew he would come when Angela called him. I knew he wouldn't be able to stay away. Because no matter what else he'd done, he'd loved me once.

He'd been at ease in my arms, he'd let me hold him up and had held me when I fell apart. We'd been together for such a short time, but the place in my heart that had his name engraved on it was home. There was nothing else out there for me; I was staying here. There were too many sunsets I hadn't seen with Jake's hand in mine. How far would I have to go to get to him?

That evening, I pulled up in front of Angela's store as the sun flickered from behind the trees, making its final descent. I smiled up at the sign out front, the one that matched the ad taken out in the Forks Gazette and the La Push weekly times:

Come celebrate with two local authors May 3rd at 6:00 PM

Books and Buns - Claire Young and Bella Swan

Advanced copies of Ms. Swan's book will be available for sale.

He would come. I knew he would. Angela, Alice, and Emmett all promised they would get him here, even if it meant stuffing him into the trunk of the car. But I was afraid. I had set all my cards out, making this night a line in the sand I desperately didn't want to draw.

The store was lit up, and Angela was decorating with Christmas lights. She had built a small stage in one corner and taken out all of the tables that were usually there; the seats lined up in rows. Walking in, I ran my fingers over the small books with my name on them at the table near the entrance. These were for sale; these were mine, they were me, and they were real.

Angela had David Nevue playing over the speakers, creating a calm, passionate, warm environment. I stood there, listening to the piano music and letting it wash over me as it mingled with the dusty smell of books. No matter what happened tonight, this was where I belonged. And if I had to tackle Jacob to get him to see me, I would. I needed him to look deeply enough to understand what he was to me. He needed to know that I... that I loved him.

I held my leather-bound notebook close to my chest, feeling the words inside calling out. People began filtering in, looking through my book, some purchasing a copy from Angela's boyfriend Ben, who was sitting at the table. Claire was here, pacing around nervously.

"Claire, is Quil here?" I asked her, breaking her mumbling recitation.

"Um, no, he's coming in a little while. Why?"

"Can you call him for me? I need him to do something."

"Sure, okay," she said, pulling out her small phone and dialing his number quickly -the number that no matter how long she lived or how many others she loved would always be branded on her heart.

I grabbed the phone and hurriedly made my request, hoping it wouldn't be too late.

The lights glittered above me, and I sat on the edge of the front row, content to listen to the bustle of bodies around me. The silence was unbreakable, no matter how loud the music played or how delicious the gossip being whispered behind me was. Anxiety was a horrid house guest. It came uninvited, sitting at the table, eating everything, and leaving only bones.

A cool breeze passed over me as Angela dimmed the lights, making me turn toward the door to find Quil, Jacob, and Paul coming in. The air was lighter now that he was here, and I found I could breathe easier with just the sight of him. Quil had come through where no one else could. I smiled and felt my chest tighten at the sight of him.

Jacob was beautiful, more than I'd remembered. His hair was shorter than before, and he had on a tight, leather motorcycle jacket. He blanched when he saw my book, snapping his head up to look for me but not finding me in the sea before him. I was safe in anonymity. I watched him pick up the book and stroke it with a smile gentle on his lips before paying for a copy and taking a seat at the back.

Claire came and sat next to me, met by Quil who rushed to her side. I smiled at his sweet concern as he fluttered about her. He nodded at me and winked before going back to join Paul and Jake. I held Claire's hand and smiled at her, knowing her fear and excitement matched my own. The store was full; most of the town had come out, here to support us.

There were people from Forks and La Push, all mixed together in this small space, to celebrate. Our accomplishments were the lubrication for two cultures at odds. There were generations of mistrust here with us -so deep it affected even the language they spoke -but if Jake and Emmett could change the system, if Paul and Rosalie could find some kind of peace, maybe Claire and I could pave the path ahead.

"Are you sure I should read this out loud?" Claire whispered to me, eyeing her parents and cousin who were sitting a few rows behind us.

"Yes, its fine. Emily's already read it, and it's amazing. Claire, you don't need to hide who you are."

"Okay..." she said, her nerves catching up to her.

I smiled back at Rosalie and Emmett when he called out to me with a grin and a wave. Carefully avoiding looking back where Jake was sitting, I scanned the room, happy to see so many people I had come to truly care about here. Angela stepped up onto the makeshift stage with a small podium and microphone.

"Thank you for coming tonight! I'm so glad so many of you could make it! It's not often we have real live celebrities here in Forks, and today we have one from town and one from La Push!

"So I'll let them get to it, and please remember, Bella's book is available for advanced purchase, and copies of the anthology review Claire's work will appear in will be available when the summer edition is released. I can take pre-orders if you're interested, so I can make sure to get enough copies.

"Okay! Tonight Claire Young is going to read a piece called 'Taut' from her collection of pieces 'Troublesome Girls.'"

Claire stepped up. She'd picked the most evocative of her three pieces to read. It was daring, but it was also, by far, the best of her work.

"Okay, so, hi, umm, I'm Claire, and yeah... this is 'Taut'..."

Her voice was shaking, but as she eased into her piece, her intensity built, and she lost herself in the presentation of her own art.

He drove me out of my mind

Steaming and sweating and sticking against the wheel

And I could see the tendons standing out in the back of his neck

And he used to make me pray

wearing a mask like death's head

When he put me there in the back seat, and he said

Jesus save me

Inherited his father's hate that what he'd say

And the custom of destruction

the pain of every escape but somehow

He could make joy come loose inside

I would feel really I would feel really and truly alive

And I would do anything for him

It just wasn't enough

It was never enough

He'd turn to me and say

He'd, he'd say 'even the son of god had to die, my darling'

Each new moon

He used to make me pray

And he'd be in there when he wanted everything

Jesus save me

The room was silent, struck dumb with the intensity of words that most people never hear in their lives, let alone from one so young. A few eyes flicked to Quil -was he the cause of such pain? But I knew better. Quil was her balm; he saved her from herself. As the silence stretched out, I saw Claire look to the back of the room, catching his eye and smiling, suddenly a child again.

The applause began then, now that the shock dissipated, and her pain was no longer hanging in the air before us. Claire had changed the way we perceived the world in the small space of time it took for her to read her words. She was a conjurer, a mystic. Smiling, she sat next to me and took my hand again. I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, proud as if she were my own.

"And now, Bella Swan will read to us. After her presentation, we'll be celebrating with champagne-and cider for you, Claire-and pastries, made especially for tonight by our local, budding baker, Alice Cullen.

"Okay, I won't make you wait any longer; here's Bella with the title piece from her new book 'The Fragrant Taste of Rain.'"

* * *

**A/N: Prepare yourself for the debut of my original fiction coming 11/1/2011**

* * *

_**Two Moons of Sera**_ by Pavarti K Tyler is All the Fun of YA Written for Adults!

Available on Amazon

In a world where water and earth teem with life, Serafay is an anomaly. The result of genetic experiments on her mother's water-borne line Serafay will have to face the very people responsible to discover who she really is. But is she the only one? 

**Coming 11/1/2011**


	20. Chapter 20

"Bella, she's all yours!" Angela smiled, waving me up to the podium.

As I stood up, my breath was even. All my nerves had worked their way through me time and again, leaving me limp and open. I walked, feeling each step ripple up through my bones. Reaching my place, I looked out and smiled at where Jacob was sitting; his gaze was fixed up at the balcony, and he wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Thanks, everyone, for coming out tonight. It means so much to me. This is 'The Fragrant Taste of Rain.'

"He, like the fragrant taste of rain, Rests in my senses, relentless, restless. Dripping and diving in taunting drops Through my blue-sky barren being.

"And I'm searching for the sign of the smallest cloud. Split to disintegrate upon the ground. Gasping and cracking like the skin of my craving tongue, Dry like the veins of a heart without love.

"And I cannot tear the way he feels away from me

"Like a layer to be shed.

"It is carved in stunning shapes and patterns on my soul,

"Carried like dreams to places my body could never go...vi"

As I read, the song Variations by David Nevue played in the background, mimicking the steady, slow falling of the rain outside. My heart clenched on itself, unable to continue beating any longer without him, and my tears gathered without thought. _Jacob_…

Looking up, I saw him, hands in his lap, his head dropped, and his shoulders sagged. He would not look up to meet my gaze. The applause surrounded me, but I couldn't hear it. I was broken, destroyed; I'd given him the only thing I had left. I was out of patience, out of fight. I was evaporating into the air when he lifted his head; with tears on his face, he looked at me fiercely, and I saw him mouth my name. _Bella_…

It was one of those moments from a movie. Marvin Gaye stepped out from behind a bookshelf, a microphone in his hand, and easy, smooth music saturated the air. The man I longed to touch stood up gracefully, tall and magnificent, and mine. The lights went out except for a spot light on each of us. All that existed was Jake and me. Everyone was gone, and the chairs disappeared, leaving nothing to stop me from running into his arms.

Jumping into his embrace, I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed him with all the passion and desperation I'd been feeling for the past months. I nipped at his lip and pulled his tongue into my mouth, aching to taste him, feel him. And he kissed me back, pouring all of the love he felt for me into my body. His hands gripped my ass as he clutched me against him, groaning with need. He sucked on my neck, pulling the skin into his mouth and making me shiver and cry out with the electric shock bolting straight to my clit. I clung to him, grinding against his body and begging him to take me on the floor right here…

But the lights never went out, Marvin wasn't there, and I wasn't touching him. I was alone on the stage, tears standing dangerously at the edges of my eyes and threatening to dive. Smiling, I looked away, nodded to the crowd, and stepped down to my seat next to Claire, needing a moment to gather myself before having to talk to anyone, especially him.

Claire held my hand, stroking it with her thumb, calming me with her kindness, and smiling weakly when I looked up. How did a girl so young know so much about heartbreak? I knew the answer must be tragic, and part of me didn't ever want to know.

The music changed and picked up in tempo as the champagne was brought out and the dessert trays revealed. People were picking up their chairs, stacking them against the wall and opening a space for celebration, but I sat still, not sure how to move or what direction to go in; Claire calmly held me, keeping me tethered to the earth.

"Bella!" Emmett boomed, ignoring all the indicators on my face that misery had set up residence. He swooped me out of my seat and swung me around as Claire's family cautiously approached her, as if her aura itself was a ring of fire. I watched from Emmett's arms as Quil crossed into her boundaries, holding her and loving every breakable thing about her without question.

I smiled as Emmett set me down and whispered, "So he came…"

I nodded, looking over past him to see where Jacob was and found him sitting on the shelves by the front window, reading my book. I watched his face as he smiled and then brought his eyebrows together in concern. I watched as he blushed a little and looked around sheepishly, probably wondering if anyone else knew how much of that piece was autobiographical. I knew just which one he was reading.

"Bella! Hello! I'm not paying a teenager ten bucks an hour to watch Royce for the fun of it, you know." Rose smiled; she was breathtaking tonight -her hair piled high on her head, her long, pale neck sloping to the strap of her black dress. She pulled me into a hug, and her skin was cool to the touch.

"Hey, sexy," Paul said, coming up to us and earning a growl from Emmett and a punch from Rose. This was all getting far too weird. "What? I meant Bella!"

"Sure, sure," I laughed, happy to be surrounded by good people, despite Paul's apparent brain damage.

"They're the ones that have the kid, right?" I heard from someone behind me; I knew they meant Paul and Rosalie; no other child caused quite so much interest in town.

"Um, I'm gonna..." I said, looking over to where Jacob was still reading.

"Go on, honey; we'll be here." Rose smiled.

It took me an agonizing amount of time to make my way over to him as everyone wanted to talk to me. I tried to be gracious about it; I really did. I wanted to soak in everyone's excitement and congratulations, but they were only obstacles in getting to my destination of Jacob.

A sea of people stretched before me, separating me from him. It was amazing how many bodies had packed into this small space, and it seemed more were arriving every moment. Angela's store was the hotspot in Forks tonight. And each body was a deterrent, a speed bump in my way.

"Bella, Bella Swan!" a voice I couldn't ignore called out. "Oh, I'm so glad to finally meet you!"

I turned to find a striking woman standing in front of me with her blond hair swept behind her ears curling out in an old-fashioned but fitting style.

"I'm Esme Cullen, Alice and Emmett's mother!" She pulled me into an unexpected hug, making me stumble into her slightly. "Easy there, dear; we don't want you getting hurt tonight."

"Yeah, thanks…"

"I just wanted to tell you how amazingly lovely your work was; really, it was just so beautiful. I could feel it so deeply. Thank you for sharing with us."

"Oh, well, thank you! I'm so glad you could come tonight. There are so many people here. I didn't expect…"

"Well, you know, this is Forks! We all stick together." She smiled at me as Sam Uley approached.

"Bella! Amazing work! A real, published poet at our little res school! We're going to have to make a brochure or something."

"Yeah, I somehow don't think my sophomore class of nineteen kids needs a brochure to find out about this." I laughed, loving that the school was so small.

"Hello, Sam! How are you?" Esme began, giving me the opportunity to steal away while her attention refocused on him.

"These crepes are amazing!" Leah was saying to Sam as I smiled. Yep, I definitely needed to talk to her about Alice doing the wedding cake… I tried again to inch my way over to where Jake had been standing. Agonizingly slowly, I broke through the crowds, and he was gone. He wouldn't have left without saying something to me -would he? I began to worry I'd imagined the tear on his cheek, the look in his eyes. I was left to look out of the window as the rain shattered the calm façade of the store.

I was beginning to wonder if Jake was an apparition, something my broken and disturbed psyche had dreamed up so that I didn't fall apart tonight. If I didn't speak to him, if I didn't touch him, what proof did I have that he was ever really here? If I focused hard enough, could I will him to appear?

"Champagne?" a deep voice asked behind me, and I closed my eyes, wondering if it was real or another delusion. I turned to find Eric Yorkie holding a fluted glass out for me. I tried to not look too obviously disappointed to find the tall man standing there, but it was hard. There was someone else I'd been hoping desperately to see.

"Yeah, thanks, Eric."

"So, tonight, that was great," he said, leaning comfortably against the pillar next to him. Eric was tall and lanky. He was handsome in a very non-traditional way, but striking none the less. Somehow, every time I'd seen him, though, something about him made me slightly uncomfortable. He was the town's only real computer geek, so maybe that just went with the territory.

"Yeah, it was really amazing. I'm glad you could come." I tried to maintain a friendly distance from him.

"Yeah, well, you know, I couldn't pass up a chance to hear something you wrote."

"Thanks…that's sweet."

"Well, you know, you're really special… Yeah… ahh, look, Bella, I was thinking…" he stammered, looking at the ground between us and shuffling his feet slightly. Watching him, I was transported back to high school when an unwelcome but much-liked suitor asked me to prom.

"Bella!" another voice called out. I thought I was going to have a panic attack from all the attention. That, in combination with my distracted state, knowing that Jake was here somewhere, was enough to pull on the small thread of sanity I retained.

"Emily, hi!"

"Oh, my goodness, that was so delightful. I just... wow... I mean, I've read Claire's work, and it's always so… painful. Yours, though, my... wow, how do you do it? I mean, it was painful but so beautiful. I felt like I was dying!"

"Thanks, I think."

Whispering, she continued, pulling me away from Eric, "Jake is by the food."

"Eric, you don't mind if I borrow Bella, do you? I really want to introduce her to my boyfriend, and he's right over here, so thanks!"

"Um, yeah, I guess…"

Without listening for his answer, she made a beeline for the dessert table and planted me right next to Jacob. "There. God, watching you two spin around each other like satellites is downright painful. Will you talk to him now?" she said a bit too loudly.

Jake was standing in front of me, an éclair half in, half out of his mouth, caught red-handed stealing from the cookie jar, and the look on his face told me he knew it. Without thinking, I started to laugh. Here we were, in this epic, pivotal moment in our lives, and he was standing there like a deer in headlights with pastries stuck in his mouth.

"Hungry?" I asked, giggling.

He smiled around the large, chocolate covered treat and bit it in half. "Mmm-hmmm," he said with his mouth full, a smile in his eyes.

I sipped my champagne, watching as he chewed and put the remainder of the éclair on a napkin before setting it on the table next to him. I watched his mouth work, licking his lips, making a tingle build at my core.

"So you're quite the celebrity now, aren't you?" His voice was lower than it was in my dreams, and rougher. I lost feeling in my legs for a moment; the sound of him reverberated though me, making my lust surge.

"I guess…" I said, not sure how to talk to him.

"Hmmm." He stuffed his hands in his pockets

"I'm glad you're here… I hope Quil didn't hurt you too much."

"Quil couldn't hurt me if he tried."

"Well, I'm just glad he got you here…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, when he made you come tonight…" I looked away, hating that the only reason he was here was because I was desperate enough to have his friend force him.

"Quil didn't bring me, Bella. I came on my own."

"You did?" I looked up at him, tears in my eyes. "You all came in together…" I wanted to reach out to him, touch his skin, taste his breath… I watched his lips as he spoke, Marvin Gaye waiting in the wings.

"Oh, I waited for him and Paul outside before coming in. I was here like twenty minutes early. I didn't want to come in… alone, I guess."

"You came to see me?" My breath was shallow; I could hardly believe that it hadn't taken an army of horses to bring him. After so many months of staying away, he was here now…

"Yeah, Bella, this is... this is amazing… I wouldn't miss it." He leaned in toward me.

"Even though you aren't talking to me…" My voice caught in my throat. I wasn't sure if he could even hear the words I spoke.

"I'm talking to you now. See, watch, here I am talking... Look, I did it again."

He smiled down at me, his goofy, toothy grin overtaking his face as he worked to make me laugh. That was Jake, always finding ways to make things better for everyone but himself.

_God, there are a lot of Qs here… _

_Look at them... how old is she? Don't they have any decency down there? _

I sighed, feeling the tightening of the cultural strains around me.

"Don't listen to it, Bella. If it doesn't bother us, it shouldn't bother you."

"It's just so stupid… I don't understand it."

"Well, Quil and Claire used to really bother you too."

"I guess…" I said, hating to admit the truth now that I knew them.

"You and she have gotten close though, huh?"

"Yeah, she's really something special."

"Her poem was heartbreaking."

"I know. Wasn't it amazing? Her work is like nothing else out there. I can never wait to see what she's going to come up with next."

"I don't know. I couldn't really listen to it; it was… too much."

"Yeah… she can be that way."

"I liked yours too, you know."

"You did?" I bit my lip, unable to look at him but desperate to know that he'd heard what I was trying so hard to say.

"Yeah, it was really…"

"Well, hey there." Jessica's voice interrupted us as she slithered up to Jake, running her hand up his arm and over his shoulder before reaching for another glass of champagne. "How are you tonight, Jake?" she said thickly, leaning against him.

"Fine, Jess. You're drunk though," he said through gritted teeth.

"Well, maybe so," she slurred, leaning her cheek against his arm. "So you're still with her, huh? What's your name, baby?"

"Jessica, go find Lauren; you need to go home."

"Why, Jake? You usually like it when I drink."

"Jess…"

"What? What's the matter?" She was getting angry now, attaching herself to him like a barnacle, lost in the possibilities of their past.

"Bella…"

"Go… get her out of here." I was disgusted with her display and his willingness to take care of her. I'd been waiting so long, yearning for him to speak to me, only to have him walk away -this time to take care of someone else. My disappointment was emanating from me as he walked off, his arm around her waist and her body leaning against him heavily.

I might know that he was just being a gentleman, being the good kind person I cared so much about, but I couldn't help the bile rising in my throat as my jealousy raged. His body swayed as he walked, his broad back strong and tight under the leather jacket he hadn't taken off.

Alone again, I felt a strange isolation, surrounded by people who were here for me, to celebrate. But I was sulking, taking a moment to indulge my self-pity. He was here… he was here for me… but did it mean…

I walked to the table and looked down at my book. I had one for myself and sent a copy to my mother; another to Edward. I hadn't heard from him in a few months, but I knew he'd be excited for me when he saw this. Last I'd heard from him, he was in Prague working at some convention.

I felt Jacob coming back in the store; my skin vibrated knowing he was near, and my heart soured. I turned to see him smiling at me -not his broad smile, though; the one of the lonely, broken man who'd left me so many months before. This was getting fucking ridiculous -I was tired of chasing him; I was going insane with this. I couldn't handle another of his 'I'm leaving' speeches without killing someone – or myself. This couldn't continue. I'd drawn the line in the sand tonight, and it was staying there. As happy as I was that he was here, as swollen as my heart was with the nearness of him, I couldn't take anymore.

"Hey…" he said, looking down at me and his eyes meeting mine with an indecipherable look.

I took a shaky breath, taking in his musky scent and wanting to dive into his arms and pull him to me, but instead, I smiled and bit down on my lip.

"So…" He ran his big hand through his short hair roughly. "Ummm, look-"

"Don't go," I breathed. I couldn't handle even hearing him start to talk about it. I couldn't.

"Oh!" he said, looking shocked and pulling back slightly from the surprise. "Umm, I wasn't… I mean… I thought… well, things are slowing down here… maybe we could go get coffee or something." He looked at the floor. He seemed young, so unsure of himself

The past was so close to us; it reverberated between us, wanting this as much as we did. I stepped forward and took a breath; my hand twitched with the desire to touch him.

"Okay, that would be good." I nodded my head and looked up, catching his eyes.

I wanted to lean up and kiss him. I wanted to pull him into my arms and engulf him with everything I was feeling. I wanted to pour myself into him, but he was so… shy. I was afraid to scare him away. My big, strong Jake… it was almost funny to see him like this, except for the tragedy of it.

"Yeah." His smile grew as he looked at me, melting away my fears. "Okay."

"God, will you two cut out the eyefuck and get a room?"

"Quil!" Claire screamed, laughing as she slapped him and burrowed further into his arms.

"What? Really, this is getting fucking insane."

"Quil…" Jake growled, clearly not in the mood.

"Oh, right, sorry. Big, disgraced Jacob has to be a martyr. Hey, maybe you should shave your head, and we can get you some orange bathrobe or something… you could go to the airport in Port Angeles and beg for change. Ahhh, the life of an aesthetic."

Quil's words were cutting, said with love, and absolutely hysterical. I couldn't help the smile spreading on my face, despite knowing that this would only make Jake angrier.

"Quil Atera, shut up," Jake choked out, and when I looked up at him, I was surprised to find that he, too, was fighting laughter.

"Or what? You'll stop talking to me too?"

"No, I'm going to piss in your ear."

"Oh, Jake!" I said, punching his arm.

"Ewww!" Claire screamed.

"Oh, fuck, Jake, that's just nasty." Quil scrunched his nose.

"You asked for it." Jake reached for his zipper.

"Keep it in your pants, Black. No one but Bella wants to see that tonight," I heard Rose say, making my stomach lurch with embarrassment. She walked up to a crowd of gaping homosapiens disguised as fish.

"We're gonna take off," Quil said, still smiling. Claire's parents had left a while ago, as had most of the crowd. I hadn't really noticed anything that had gone on around me tonight, and I felt a little bad since everyone had been so nice… but my focus was somewhere else right now.

They pushed past us, followed by Rose and Emmett, who whispered something to Jake I couldn't hear that made him chuckle and nod.

"I'm gonna go talk to Angela and Alice quick. Then we can go?" I was still afraid that he was going to disappear if I let him out of my sight. It was possible he was just an apparition. I hadn't touched him to make sure he was solid.

"I'll be here," he said. My smile was weak, my heart exhausted.

I walked quickly though the sparsely attended room, finding Angela easily thanks to her tall stature and signature black garb. "Hey, Ange?"

"Are you still here?"

"Oh, umm, yeah."

"Why? Tall, dark, and salty is over there waiting for you!"

"Thanks, Ange… tell Alice goodbye for me?"

"Yeah, now go!"

"Ange…"

"Don't think, Bella. Don't think this time… just do." She looked at me meaningfully. How did I get lucky enough to have such wonderful people in my life?

I walked back to a quiet Jake, still far away in whatever fortified land he'd built inside his head. But this time, when my hand twitched, I didn't fight it. I placed it on his bicep, struck again with how strong he was. "Ready?" I asked, hiking my shoulder bag higher and slipping my hand around his arm to hold onto it and pull my body against him.

His warmth radiated through his jacket, seeping into me and awakening my desire, my need for him. I breathed him in, taking his smell, his heat, his beauty into my lungs and letting it become my sustenance. His stance was stiff, but slowly, I felt him soften. His muscles relaxed under my touch, and his face became minutely more open. His smile was genuine but guarded still. "Yeah."

We walked outside, into the misting rain, making me lift my head to the cool, spring night air. Walking side by side, I felt a peace settle over me. This was where I belonged. Why couldn't he see it? His blindness was our downfall.

I stopped walking, making him jerk when I refused to release my hold on his arm.

"Bella?" he said, cocking his head to the side. It showed me the length of his neck, making me want to kiss it, lick it, bite it as he made me scream. My body was responding on its own now. Don't think; just do.

I put my hand on his chest, slipping it under his jacket so I could be closer to his skin; he sucked in a ragged breath at the contact, confusion in his eyes until I stepped closer and brought our bodies millimeters apart. On my tip-toes, I leaned in to kiss him, to taste him, my eyes locked on his.

"Wait." He grabbed my arms, stopping my approach.

"No, Jake. I've waited long enough." I pushed against him again, and his hold on my shoulders softened. I wrapped my free arm around his neck, pulling him down to me and snaking my hand from his heart, around his amazing chest and through his jacket, around his broad back.

His lips were soft, so much softer than I remembered, so much better than my dreams. He was hesitant, and I could feel the tension in his touch, his hands resting on the small of my back. I sucked in his lower lip, pulling him to me. I laced my fingers up into his short hair, making him moan slightly against me as I ran my nails against the skin, now exposed with his short haircut.

I felt him tremble slightly before the damn broke, and he kissed me back. His hands gripped me tightly, one wrapping all the way around my waist. I was so small compared to him, and I loved the way he consumed me. His tongue was like lighting fire against my lips. I opened my mouth, reaching out for him and pulling him deeper into me. The taste of him was so delicious I felt light-headed with the sensation of him. As his other hand cupped my ass firmly, bringing me closer to him, I lifted my hand from the back of his head to his jaw, cupping his face and taking in the joy of being with him.

"Jacob…" I moaned his name like a prayer.

Our kiss slowed, becoming a testament to what could be between us. Our tongues made love with passion, whispering all the things we weren't ready to say. He looked deeply into me. "Am I too late?" he asked, his voice husky with desire and pain.

"No, but you're an idiot."

"I know…" He leaned his forehead against mine, taking a few shallow breaths.

"I missed you," I said against his lips as I kissed him again softly, my hand stroking his cheek.

"I don't deserve you."

"Nope, sure don't, but here I am." I smiled into his eyes, seeing the pain there.

"Bella, you know I…"

"Shush, Jake, come on; let's go get some coffee." I stepped back from him, disentangling myself from his jacket and taking his arm again.

"Yeah, sure, sure." He smiled down at me, the warmth of our kiss glowing from him.

* * *

Announcing the release of _**Two Moons of Sera**_ by Pavarti K Tyler

**_Two Moons of Sera _Synopsis**_: _In a world where water and earth teem with life, Serafay is an anomaly. The result of genetic experiments on her mother's water-borne line Serafay will have to face the very people responsible to discover who she really is. But is she the only one?

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	21. Chapter 21

Our hands were laced together across the table, our smiles shy but sincere. There was so much we needed to talk about, clear up, confess, but how we started that, neither of us knew. For now, we were still high on the feeling of our lips touching, our bodies connecting. Whatever else may have happened, what I felt when he kissed me was magical. If anything, it was stronger than when we'd been together before; he somehow filled me, rounded out my corners.

Our coffee came quickly, forcing us to release our hands reluctantly.

"So I like the hair," I said, taking him in, his neck strong and long.

"Oh, ahh, yeah, you know, regs." He ran his hand through his barely-there hair.

"Huh?"

"It's regulation."

"Whose?"

"Um… that's part of why… you know… you haven't seen me much… ah… I… ah…"

"Spit it out, Black. I can't, I really can't chase you down tonight."

"What? Wait, hold up, Bella; what's that about?"

"Look, it's just that I'm tired, okay? It's been a long day."

"Yeah, I get it."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's… I get it. You don't even have to be here with me. I shouldn't make this any harder on you."

"I'm glad I'm here with you." I looked at him through my lashes before taking a sip.

"I'm glad you're here with me too."

"What took you so long, Jake?" I asked abruptly, refusing to hold back any longer. My sadness seeped through more than I'd intended.

"Bella, I'm sorry."

"That's not what I asked." I placed my coffee down on the table.

"Wow, you're really not fucking around tonight, are you?"

"I told you, I'm tired. I'm tired of all of it, and I can't keep doing this. I want you, Jake. I want to be with you. That hasn't changed, and really, I don't think it's going to, but all this… crap the last six months… I can't do it."

"I know… but, fuck, Bella, give me a sec to get my bearings, okay?"

"Sure, whatever." Annoyance oozed from my skin, leaving a sticky residue behind on everything I touched. I didn't want to be like this. I didn't want to be a bitch or demand anything of him. I wanted his hands on me, his love in my heart, but I was hurt, and I was… I was angry. All these months of being sad, I didn't take the time to realize it.

"All right, okay, look, I'm sorry. I've wanted to call you so many times… I've wanted… I just couldn't."

"Why?"

"I didn't know how… I didn't want to see that look in your eyes… the one everyone else around here sees me through."

"Jake, no one sees you that way but you."

"That's just not true, Bella."

"You don't realize it, but you've grown up, and so have they. Jessica may still be a little bitch, but you aren't. No one tonight so much as looked at you sideways, and at your art opening, there were a few people, but for the most part, Jake, it's in your head."

"Well, maybe, but it's set up a nice little cabin with a picket fence and a dog and everything, so I don't know what to do about that."

"Hmmm."

We sat in silence, sipping our coffee. Being with Jake was always so comfortable, natural. I smiled, watching the slow rain outside and thinking of the first time I'd been in this diner with him.

"What?" he asked, smiling at my smile.

"Do you remember our first non-date?"

"Hmmm, that was a fun night."

"You were so sure."

"Yeah."

"You were so sure of us."

"Yeah," he whispered.

"What changed, Jake? Do you not… am I not what you want?"

"What? No, God, Bella, no! I… You're everything I want," he said intensely.

"Why then? Why did you leave like that?"

"Okay, what happened at your house with Edward, it freaked me out. I'm smart enough to see that he came at me, that I just kept him from hurting either of us, but… there was so much blood…"

"But he was fine."

"And you were amazing. You totally just jumped in and took over, and I don't know... seeing you take care of him, and here I was, just a bully. I thought, you should be with someone who's more like you." His eyes fell to the table between us.

"So you thought staying away from me was the best way to do that... no thoughts of what I wanted…"

"No, I didn't want to… Look, I couldn't trust that wouldn't… I felt it building up in me that morning, Bella, that out of control feeling, that bubble of -I don't know -anger? Hate? Whatever it is, it's bad, and you shouldn't be around it."

"But you came tonight."

"I… I had to…"

"Why? Why not when I came to your house and cried on your dad's lap for an hour? Why not then or any of the other of million times you could have driven the twenty minutes to my house?"

"I… I don't know. I just… had to… and then when I read your book, and I heard that poem… why that one, Bella?"

"You know why, Jake…"

"Hey," he said abruptly, pulling me out of my moment of confession, "why did you think Quil brought me?"

"Oh, ahh, I called him before the show, asked him to stuff you in the trunk of his car."

He chuckled, still subdued, but a light in his eyes was shining though, illuminating my entire existence.

"You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, I did, Jake. God, you're infuriating. I mean, you think this has been easy? What did you think I was doing all this time?"

"I don't know… moving on, I guess."

"How? I had no idea what was going on!" The anger was surprising me, spilling over onto the table.

"What do you want me to say? I fucked up? I did! Okay, I'm sorry. I don't... I'm not good at any of this, and you're… you're everything to me!"

"How would I know that?"

"I didn't want to hurt you!"

"You don't think this hurt?" My voice cracked with the pain that fought to jump out at him from my eyes, wanting to rip at him. Snarling, it clung to the bars of my sanity. "You wouldn't see me. You wouldn't talk to me. Even your dad told me to just let you go… maybe I should have… maybe that would have been the healthy thing to do…"

I looked up at him before continuing, my tears falling off the edge now, holding on to my lashes until they couldn't fight gravity any longer. "But I just couldn't." Reaching out, I ran my knuckles against his cheek, and he leaned into my caress.

"I'm glad you didn't…"

"Are you? Are you just going to disappear on me again?"

"I…"

"I couldn't bear it, Jake… I can't take it. If you're going to leave, you have to tell me now. Don't pull me in again just to go."

"I won't."

"Please… I'm not that strong… but I'm not that stupid either. I can't have my heart broken by you again."

He grabbed my hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. "I'm so sorry," he said, looking up at me with misty eyes. "I never… God…" He lowered his head onto my hand, holding it to his cheek and cradling it like it might shatter and be lost at any moment.

We sat there for a moment -my pain and his regret sat at the next table over, arguing over the latest budget cuts while Jake and I treasured being together.

"What can I do…"

"I don't know, Jake; just… don't run away again."

"I won't; I know I overreact…"

"Where have you been?"

He released my hand and sat back, running his hand across his scalp again… wait… regulation… his hair… My chest tightened around me, making it difficult to breath as the reality of him leaving despite everything he'd just said washed over me. But I knew, I knew that if that was his choice, I was staying here.

"You reenlisted…"

"No… I can't… I tried, but my dad…"

"You were going to go that far away. You had completely given up." My tears fell faster now, swirling in my coffee mug.

"I joined the reserves, so, yeah, I could be called up, I guess, but with my dad, I probably won't… I didn't want to leave, Bella. I just needed to do something… I went back to basic for a few weeks. My aunt stayed with Dad, and I did the whole reenlisting thing but wasn't going to go anywhere; it's just not an option for me."

"But you would have if you could."

"I never meant to come back here in the first place; you know that."

"But you love it here! This is your home."

"No, Bella, this was my home."

"You are such an idiot. God, don't you see? Paul, Quil, Royce, Emmett, and Alice, and me! Don't we mean anything to you?"

"Of course."

"Don't I mean anything to you?"

"How can you even ask that? You're the only reason I was leaving. For you! So you could be here in peace without me; so you could start a life. I don't know... marry Eric Yorkie or something and live happily ever after."

"Are you fucking out of your mind?" I said slowly and softly, wanting him to hear every single word. "Don't you ever make a decision like that for me again."

He blanched, pulling back from me.

"I called you, I begged you, I threw my shame out the window, and now you're telling me you never even intended to… God… why did you even come tonight!"

The diner lights started turning off, our cue to pay and leave. And my anger, my hurt, seethed, steaming off of my skin hot enough to burn. Jake put the money down on the table and stood up, holding his hand out to me. I looked up at him, an eyebrow raised, my tears and fury mixing together. A moment later, he withdrew his hand, and I stood up, storming outside.

Once we were a safe distance from the diner, I turned on him. "What the fuck, Jacob?" The rain made the distance between us visible.

"Bella…"

"No, you know what? I don't want to hear it." I started to storm off toward my truck.

He trailed after me, finally starting to act. "Bella, I'm here tonight because I couldn't, even if I wanted to, I couldn't leave you. You're the air, you're the reason... you're... fuck…"

I was at the door to my truck, but instead of getting in, I leaned against it, placing my head against the window frame. Its cool metal soothed me. Its solid structure was the only thing keeping me sane. At last, I broke, and I cried all of the tears that had been building and growing.

"Bella…" he said, gathering me into his arms, "Shhh, shhh, I'm so sorry. I know I did this, but I'm so sorry. Please."

"This is it, Jake; this is it. I can't take more than this. We're standing at the line in the sand." I looked up at him, the rain falling on my face. "It's now or never because… this is it."

Jacob looked down at me, holding me against him with his strong arms for an impossible amount of time. He didn't look away this time; he looked deep into me and dropped his walls, letting me see into him. I saw the pain and fear. I saw the hope. As he leaned down to kiss me, I closed my eyes just before I saw what would come next. I didn't see the love, the life he wished for us; I didn't see the man he would become. But I could feel it in that kiss.

His kiss was urgent, desperate. He pulled me up into him, hurting me with his embrace, but I needed it; I needed to feel every muscle, every ounce of him. He kissed me roughly, forcing himself down on me. His mouth was hot, scalding as it opened and pulled my lip into him; he moaned, and I licked his teeth before diving in with matching need.

He pushed me back against the truck, picking me up slightly so that my weight was leveraged between his body and the metal frame. He leaned into me kissing harshly, leaving my lips swollen and sore, and he kissed me... As his hand came up my side, I felt him push against me. His heat, his sex was against me, making me gasp from the unexpected sensation. It had been so long…

His need for me screamed in his touch, his hands clutching me roughly and his cock grinding against me so hard I could barely make coherent thoughts. I scratched at him, pulling his head to my neck and begging him to touch me. My eyes rolled back in my head as he hitched me higher, and his hand started kneading my ass, grabbing handfuls and rubbing me, the other hand matching his desperation in its hold on my breast. His mouth was on my neck, sucking so hard I was sure to have a mark tomorrow, but I didn't care. All I wanted was him.

I rolled against him, his body hard and unyielding in his passion. He nipped at my neck, teeth grazing against sensitive flesh, as my hands roamed around his shoulders until he kissed me again, making me dig my nails into his biceps. "Bella," he growled as he descended to my mouth, sucking my tongue into his own, causing a rippling sensation to spread out from my core.

He stopped then, his hand releasing my breast and coming to my face to brush the hair away.

"I will never, ever hurt you like that again, Bella; I promise."

My voice hitched, and I cried as he came back in to kiss me again, gently this time. He kissed my lips, my eyes, my cheeks, over and over, making me smile against him. "Let me prove it to you," he whispered, "I can be better; I can be what you need."

I ran my hand over his scalp. "You already are, baby." I brought my hands to his jaw and kissed him languidly.

Slowly, he stepped back from me, rearranging himself slightly and smiling. "So… what do we do? I mean… how do we? I want to..."

I smiled at his insecurities; while unnecessary, it was still sweet. "Why don't you come over tomorrow night? Em and I have been making Sunday night dinners… you should come."

"Okay, Bells."

I smiled at the nickname, melting just a little more in his warm gaze. He reached forward and opened my door for me.

I smiled and climbed in.

"Tomorrow," he promised.

"Tomorrow," I smiled. He leaned in again and kissed me goodbye before closing the door. I started the truck and turned around to look again at his body heading back to where he'd parked. Sighing, I pulled out of the small parking lot and headed home.

The house was empty, and I crawled into bed with a smile on my face, sleeping soundly, dreamlessly, for the first time in months. The morning came slowly, sun filtering through the blinds I'd finally hung up. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. God, if this is love, am I crazy?

My phone buzzed its early morning ring.

"Hello?"

"Bella! What happened?"

"What? Alice, is that you?"

"Of course! Who else? Now, come on; spill it!

"Oh, ahh…"

"Leave her alone," Jasper called through the phone line.

"Hi, Jazz."

"Bella says 'hi.' Okay, now are you going to dish or what? What happened with Jake?"

"Nothing, I mean, we went out to coffee, and we talked…"

"That's it!"

"Considering he hasn't talked to me in over six months, I think that's pretty big, don't you?"

"I was hoping for something a little steamier."

"Yeah, well, we'll just have to wait and see about that." I slipped my slippers on and went to start the coffee downstairs while we talked.

"So are you two, like, together now?"

"I don't know, Alice… I guess… He's coming over for dinner tonight so… I'm just gonna see what happens."

"Well, if my vote counts, I say you jump him. You've been pining all winter."

"Yeah, but…"

"But nothing, Bella. Life doesn't happen if you don't participate!"

"You sound like Angela."

"Well, despite her fashion sense, she's very smart."

"Yeah, maybe…"

"Okay, well, Mr. Patience here is bugging me to get off the phone, but you're gonna call me, right? You're gonna tell me every little detail."

"Probably not."

"Bella!"

"Sorry, Alice," I laughed at her indignation about not getting to be a fly on the wall of my love life.

"Fine. Talk to you later."

"You know I love you, Alice."

"I know. Love you too."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone before heading up to my room. The morning passed happily, listening to Pandora on my laptop and writing notes to my mother and Edward. I knew Edward would be happy, probably surprised by some of my work, but he'd be proud of me in his own way. And strangely, that made me happy; I wanted him to be proud of me. No matter how far apart our lives may go, what he thought, what he did, would always matter to me. Love is like that: impossible to ignore.

I didn't know what my mother would think; she was barely speaking to me at this point. We'd never had a difficult relationship, and I knew she wasn't upset with me; she was just an exceptionally selfish human being, and now that she had her new life, that simply didn't include me. I missed her, but more than anything else, I missed the image of what I wanted a mother to be.

When I watched Rosalie with Royce, I prayed I would know how to be a mother like that when the time came. I had no experience, no idea what that felt like, to love like that. When Rose looked at Royce, her world was complete; his heart beating was enough for her to bear all that she had in her short life ten times over.

I texted Emmet once it was late enough I could be sure he'd get it.

_Jake's coming 2 dinner – get extra _

Then Jake

_Dinner at 6 – come early if you want to help cook _

An hour later, I got what I'd come to learn was a typical response from Emmett:

_Don't think I can afford that much food… _

I would worry the day he stopped teasing me… that's how I would know there was something very, very wrong in the world.

I spent the day opening all of the windows in the house, airing out the stale smell of winter in the bright warmth of this May Sunday and reading some new books Angela had squirreled aside for me. I was getting quite a collection of esoteric literature, and I loved it. Claire had been borrowing some of them, and I had taken a few into the school for the kids to borrow, but most I kept here: my own personal treasures.

My phone rang again. This time it was Angela. I guess my love life really was the most interesting thing going on in Forks.

"Hello."

"So…"

"Hi, Angela."

"Yeah, yeah, hi. So?"

"I'm fine; thanks for asking. It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

"Bella! Come on, did you and Jake work things out? It's killing me!"

"I can't believe how invested you are in this. You and Alice, god, you'd think you didn't have lives of your own."

"Okay, I'm coming over there if you don't start talking. Or maybe I should call Jacob…"

I laughed at her frustration. "Okay, don't do anything rash now. We talked, okay? We went for coffee, and we talked."

"So, did he spend the night?"

"Angela!"

"What?"

"No, he didn't."

"Well, so did you work things out then?"

"For now, we'll see. He's coming over tonight."

"Awesome! I hope he doesn't fuck this up."

"Me too!"

I heard Emmett and Rosalie come in, laughing happily, and I checked the clock to see it was 4:00 PM.

"Okay, I'm gonna run Ange…"

"Okay, well, have fun, okay?"

"I will. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Love you, Bella."

"You too."

I hung up, smiling at my friends and half expecting to get a call from Emily next. Royce would be home any minute, and I hadn't heard back from Jake yet… I changed my clothes, taking off my ratty sweats and pulling on a pair of tight jeans and a t-shirt. It felt so good to be able to wear just one layer of clothing finally. Forks was a lot of things, but ideally situated for optimal climatic appeal, it was not.

I came bopping downstairs and found Rosalie spread out on the couch, happily working on her recent Sudoku book while Emmett was clanging around in the kitchen.

"What we making today?" I said, hopping up onto my favorite perch on the counter.

"I was thinking mango and black bean empanadas."

"Mmmm, that sounds great!"

"I had to get a jar of mangos since they aren't in season."

"Ewww, in syrup?"

"Nah, the stuff in the fruit juice."

"Great…" I said, skimming over the recipe as Emmett pulled out all of the spices we would need.

"Greasy Grimey Gofer Guts – Mutilated Monkey Meat – Little Birdie's Bloody Feet, and I Forgot My Spoon!"

"Royce is home," Emmett laughed, opening the refrigerator door.

"You think?"

"Miss Bella!" he called.

"Miss Bella!" he and another voice called together.

"Miss Bella!" Rosalie joined them.

"Miss Bella!" the chant continued.

"Fine," I hopped off my perch and walked into the other room to find Jake by the door with flowers and a bottle of wine in his hands.

"This is what I'm supposed to do, right? This is how you woo a girl?" he smiled, knowing perfectly well what he was doing. Royce bounced up and down, his face an open book of joy and delight.

"Uncle J drove me home! He says he's not in trouble anymore!"

"Oh, is that what he said?" I raised an eyebrow at Jake.

"It's the best I could come up with," he blushed, heading to the kitchen but stopping to kiss my cheek on the way.

"Hey, man."

"Hey, brother…" Emmett and Jake fell easily back into being together.

"So… should I ask?" Rose said, looking at me from over her book.

"Not yet."

"Okay." She shrugged her shoulders and went back to her game.

I walked back into the kitchen to find Jake sitting at the table, messing with my laptop.

"What'cha doing?"

"Checking your history for internet porn."

"Shut up." I smacked his arm.

"Hitting's not nice; Miss Trish says not to hit," Royce said, wandering back to his room with his overnight bag.

"You're right, Royce. I'm sorry, Jacob."

"I accept your apology, but I think I need a kiss to make it better."

I leaned down to kiss him as Emmett started making gagging sounds behind us.

"Seriously? Is this what I have to endure now? God, maybe the two of you sulking separately was better…"

"Hmmm, I have to disagree," Jake said, pulling me down to sit on his lap. As I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, I was struck by how perfectly we fit together, and how comfortable it was with him here. He fit not only with my body but in my life.

"Well, as long as you're here, get chopping."

"I wanna be where the people are… I wanna see wanna see 'em dancing..."

Royce brought his stuffed animals out into the kitchen from his room, a little collection of sea creatures in his arms.

"I'm gonna be Ariel for Halloween," he said on his way to the living room to play.

"Now, what do I do with that?" Emmett asked, looking at us.

"Nothing. Let him be," I chidded, knowing that Royce was lost in the world of his imagination. This wasn't some kind of glimpse into his sexuality, just a part of being a kid.

"Yeah, he'll be what he'll be. Nothing you can do about it now," Jake said, lifting me up off his lap before grabbing the cilantro from the counter and starting to chop it finely.

I sat watching them work, smiling that my family was complete again.

"He's not your son."

"Not yours either."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, well, I've known plenty of gay guys - not really a big deal either way." Jake joked offhandishly.

"Nothing sexier than men cooking," Rose said from the doorway before walking up behind Em and wrapping her arms around him.

"Put some music on, Bella."

"What are you in the mood for?"

"AC/DC," Emmett said without missing a beat.

"I think not."

"Come on, Jake, back me up; AC/DC right?"

"No way, brother. I'm on relationship probation; I'm siding with the girls tonight," he laughed, turning to wink at me.

"How about Nora Jones?"

"All right, that's okay. Not as good as Hells Bells, but it'll do… Hey, Hells Bells! That's you!"

"Oh God…"

"I feel a nickname coming on," Emmett threatened, turning around and pulling Rose against his chest.

"Don't you dare."

"Sure, Hells Bells, no problem. I won't call you that, Hells Bells."

"Rose, could you please castrate him for me?"

"No… I need those. How about I chop off his nose?" she laughed against him.

We worked, stuffing the dough until it was time to put them in the oven and drinking the wine Jacob had brought over. When that bottle was gone, Emmett pulled out another, filling our glasses.

"Roy Baby, are you going to try the empanadas?" Rose called when dinner was ready.

"Sure, Mama!" he said, bounding in. Somehow, he'd gotten something green all over his yellow shirt.

"What have you been doing in there?"

"Playing."

"With?"

"My animals!"

"So what's on your shirt?"

"Oh." He looked down, wiping at the offending stain. "I don't know, mama, looks like monster blood."

His complete sincerity made all of us laugh.

"Okay, honey, is there monster blood on anything else?"

"I'll check…" Royce went running back into the living room to inspect.

"Where does he come up with that stuff?" Jake laughed, taking another sip of his wine. His large hand on the delicate wine glass was amazingly sexy.

"I don't know, but he's constantly catching me off guard," Rose said, watching after him with a soft smile playing on her lips.

We set the table together in comfortable conversation and ate quickly, our most recent adventure in cooking a glowing success. We were halfway into our third bottle of wine at this point, and Royce had been nodding off at the table so Rose took him back to bed.

All night, Jake's hand had been on me in some way -on my leg under the table, or against the small of my back. He kept constant contact, and the heat of his hand was dizzying.

"I'll do the dishes," Rose announced, coming back to the kitchen. This was her usual duty, since she never cooked.

Em went out to the living room and flipped on the TV, and I looked at Jake, inclining my head and making him smile that slow, sexy smile that made me quiver. We headed upstairs without comment from Emmett and Rose. They were being surprisingly cool about his reintroduction into our lives, and I was glad not to have to deal with tension from them in addition to my own nervousness about being with Jake.

As soon as we were up in my room, he closed the door and pulled me to him. "You are so beautiful," he whispered into my hair, sending shock waves from where his lips brushed against me through my entire body.

"Jake…" I sighed, leaning back into him as his scent surrounded me.

He brushed my hair away from my neck and kissed me lightly -feather light kisses, making my skin shiver and my eyes close. He kissed along my neck up to my ear, licking the lobe. "I missed you," he cooed, his voice low, before kissing me again, further back on my neck, down to my shoulder. His hands were wrapped around me, one slowly making its way up my body; I pushed harder against him, feeling his need.

"Stop, stop…" I said, regaining my control and stepping out of his grasp.

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"I can't… you can't just jump back into my bed, you know? I can't just… let it all go."

"Okay, okay, honey." He walked back up to me, putting his hand on my face and covering most of my cheek. "However much or little of me you want… it's fine… it doesn't matter, okay?" He bent his legs, coming down to my eye level and forcing me to look at him. "I just want to be here with you, Bella. That's more than I could have hoped for."

I touched his face, wanting to kiss him but afraid he would misunderstand. But he leaned into me, straightening back up but taking me with him by his strong arms around my waist. "Whatever you want, Bella, anything," he said into my mouth, "Anything." And then his lips were on mine, soft like silk, warm as water, moving against mine in rhythm with our hearts.

We walked over to my couch, still entwined. He sat down, bringing me to sit on his lap.

"I'm serious, okay?" I said, not wanting him to try and change my mind as he was so prone to do. I didn't want to make any mistakes with him.

"I know. We'll stay out here, okay? I won't try anything like that… I just… I don't think I can stop kissing you."

And I didn't want him to; I leaned against him, my hand flat on his chest -so strong -and brought my lips down to his. We kissed; our tongues wrapped together, and our hands unsure like teenagers. I turned and straddled him, making him moan in my mouth as I pulled his face to mine, pushing myself against him.

His hands worked their way up my shirt, scorching my skin with every light touch. He clutched at my shoulder blades, pulling me into his chest. I dropped his lips, wanting to taste his skin. I ran my tongue along his jawline before kissing him gently under his ear, a spot I knew made him quiver.

"Bella…" he breathed, putting his hands on my hips and holding me tight as he rubbed against me, making a fire start at my core that couldn't be quenched. His head rolled back, eyes closed as I kissed his neck, licking and pulling his skin into my mouth. Listening as his breath sped up, I bit him hard along his artery, making him moan loudly.

"Bella, Bella, what are you doing to me…" he moaned as I bit him again, chewing on his skin and pulling his shirt collar aside to give me access to more of him. He rubbed against me savagely, losing himself in the sensation of his body against mine.

"I… god…" he moaned as I pulled his head the other direction roughly before diving in to attack the other side of his neck. He tasted like tears and love, his scent getting stronger as he struggled against the confines of his jeans.

"Bella, I… god… what… what… how can I… oh god…" he brought his hands to the back of my shoulders and pushing me down against him. His hips rose up from the couch; he was growling, clenching his jaw.

I sat up slightly and pulled him with me as I rolled onto my back on the love seat. It was far too small for us, and with a savage look and a growl, he lifted me onto the floor, settling himself between my legs.

I pulled my legs up against his hips, holding him against me, and the seam of my jeans rubbed against my core in just the right spot as he pushed against me over and over. "Jake!" I said, leaning my head back and arching up to his hand on my breast.

"Fuck, Bella… I'm… I'm not gonna…"

"What?" I looked up at him.

"I… I'm not gonna come like this… I… God, I want you." His eyes were black, the fire behind them blazing.

Without thinking, my hand slid down his body, hard and tight with desire. I pulled his shirt out of his pants before reaching in, grabbing his thickness in my hand. "Oh my…" He lurched against my touch. He was so soft, like satin. How could his skin be so soft and smooth when he was burning me with his desire, his hardness thick and needy?

"How about now?" I whispered, running my thumb over his tip, spreading the moisture there over his head, and letting it glide my fingers against him.

"Hhhaaa," was all he said as I started to pump him, looking up at his closed eyes and tight face. I pulled on him firmly, wanting to feel his release.

"Come for me," I whispered, grinding my hips against the back of my hand inside his jeans, matching his movements with my own. I made love to him on the black rug of my living room with my hand and my eyes. I held him tightly as he shook and pulsed against me before collapsing on top of me, his weight heavy and welcome.

"Oh my god…" he whispered into my neck. I kissed his ear, making him shiver.

"I have to get up," I said softly, not wanting to ruin the moment. I slid my hand out of his jeans carefully as he rolled off of me. Quickly, I went to wash my hands. When I came back, he was still lying on the floor with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. His body was beautiful, so long and defined, especially when he stretched like this, his thin waist sculpted with muscles stretching up along his torso.

"Bells, come here," he sighed, holding his arm out and inviting me to join him.

"Aren't you uncomfortable?" I asked, sliding along his body and wrapping myself around his side and leg to burrow into his chest. Here, I could finally breathe.

"You said no bed, and I don't want to let go of you yet, so no, I'm perfectly comfortable. This is perfect." He kissed the top of my head.

"Will you stay tonight?"

"Do I have to sleep on the floor?" he said, and though I could hear the smile in his voice, I knew that if I told him to, he would, without complaint.

"No… stay with me."

"Okay… I… I don't deserve you, Bella. I don't deserve any of this."

"I don't know why you can't see what you mean to me." I rolled onto my stomach so I could look at him.

"Because it doesn't make any sense." He looked down at me, a deep sadness in his eyes.

"Jake." I shook my head, wishing he could read my mind, see inside my head. "Come on." I got up and walked back into the bedroom.

We settled into sleep -him in his underwear, me in his t-shirt. I slept curled up on his back with one arm wrapped around his broad body, our legs intertwined, our lives mingled.


	22. Chapter 22

JACOB POINT OF VIEW

Bang bang bang

"Mmmmphh."

Bang bang

"Come on, man. You coming?"

"Mmmmphhh, huh?"

Warm… so warm… Don't know that I've been this warm in... fuck, ever. And soft…

Bang bang

"Fuck off!"

"Come on, it's time to go. You're at the station today, right!"

"Fuck, all right! Gimme ten."

She was still asleep despite that noise, curled into the crook of my arm with her hand on my hip, so small. Damn, she was beautiful. Her breathing was deep; I hated to wake her up. I'd spend the day... fuck, I'd spend my life just watching her sleep if she'd let me. Leaning in, I kissed her head, taking a deep inhale of her scent, which made my cock twitch. This no-sex thing was going to kill me.

"Bells… Bells, honey." I shook her gently, making her moan that soft murmur that melts me.

"Bella, baby, I gotta get up." I tried to release my arm from around her, but she just clung to me tighter.

How had I gotten so lucky? Guys like me, we just don't get shit like this. We get the short end every time the straws are drawn, but here she was. I couldn't believe she'd not only given me the chance to try and fix what I'd broken, but here she was, asleep in my arms. It made me want to breakdown and cry, buy her a kitten, ask her to marry me... anything to tell her I was here for good.

I'd been lost at the bottom of the world when we were apart. Nothing made sense. That's why I'd run, really. Scared as I was of hurting her, I was so flipped on my ear by all this. How could this tiny woman, this funny, sexy, ridiculous creature in my arms reduce me to a frightened boy? I'd spent so much of my life building up who I was without anyone, just to have her rip it all down.

I had to get up though. Musing was a luxury I just didn't have today.

"Bella, come on, baby… come on, it's morning." She rolled on to her back and looked up at me, sleep still distorting her vision.

"Hey…"

"Hey, yourself," I smiled. Her voice, so soft, cut through every layer of protection I had.

"What time is it?"

"Early, but I gotta get to the station, okay?"

"Yeah, sure…" She still wasn't quite awake. I was afraid that if I left now, she wouldn't remember this conversation and think I'd left in the night. That would be something I wouldn't get to recover from. She was pretty pissed at me as it was, despite the sweet smile on her lips. I'd fucked up, and I knew I had some serious work to do to get things right.

I hopped out of bed, making her shiver. I wanted to climb back in there and pull her into my chest, warm her with everything I felt. I wanted to kiss her and heat her up with my hands. Man, I had to stop thinking like that if I was gonna get out of here.

Throwing on my jeans, I smiled at her sleeping in my shirt.

"Babe, I need my shirt back."

"No," she pouted, burrowing further under the covers.

"I can't go to work like this, come on."

"There's still some in the dresser…" she mumbled, stopping me in my tracks. That's right; she had some of my clothes here. She'd kept them in the dresser all these months, waiting for me. Fuck, I was so goddamn stupid. How could I have just walked away from this, from this room, this woman?

I threw on a black shirt I'd thought I'd lost at basic, pulling it down and tucking it in. In the bathroom, I stole some of her gel, hoping I didn't smell too girly but needing to do something about the fluff on the top of my head. Hair this short shouldn't need styling, but here I was.

"You need me to stop by your dad's this morning?" came a tinkling voice behind me.

"Um… yeah… that'd be great." I turned to find her standing in the doorway, so beautiful with her hair matted on the back of her head and my shirt on. What would have made her think of that? What would make her want to do that for me? Whatever I'd tried to stop between us was far gone now. Can't turn back a falling star, right?

"Can I pee?" she giggled, smiling as I started at her. She'd caught me lost in my thoughts.

"Sure, sure…"

In her bedroom, I pulled on my socks and boots. Her room hadn't changed much, but she had. She was different, stronger. I couldn't believe the shit she'd given me the other night. I couldn't help but smile to think of the ferocious look she gave me when she thought I was leaving. She'd been willing to fight for us; she made me want to do the same.

Nothing scared me as much as that little woman though. Her tears were like bullets; nothing could hurt me more than making her cry. She deserved so much more than I could give her. My little savings account and crappy old house were nothing. She didn't need to be trapped to a man with a father who needed help bathing and changing his catheter. Maybe she just didn't know what all came with the package of me yet.

Breezing back into her room, she smiled at me, and my thoughts were broken. All I could see was her with the morning sun on her skin. I couldn't stop the smile on my face as it spread so far my face hurt. I'd smiled more these past two days than I had the months and months before them.

"I gotta go," I said, standing up and knowing from my internal clock that Emmett would be starting to get pissed.

"I know…" she bit her lip -a habit that made me want to kiss her and bite that lip for her.

"I'll call you, okay?"

"Sure, sure."

"Bells?"

"Yeah?" She looked up at me, fear in her eyes.

"I'm not going far, okay? I'm not leaving." I touched her cheek, wanting to reassure her and heal the pain I'd caused.

"Okay..." she breathed. It would be a long time before I convinced her. But fuck if I wouldn't spend every second I had left trying.

Leaning down, I kissed her, feeling the softness as she melded her lips against mine. I wished there was something I could say to… tell her…

Her hand came up and rested on my heart, an unconscious habit she'd developed that made my chest swell with feeling.

"Okay, baby… really… I gotta go."

"Okay… I'll check on your dad in a while."

"Thanks, Bella." I put my head against her forehead, wanting to reach into her heart. "That's… that's really…Thanks." I wished I was better with words. I wished I could tell her… that no one else helped with Dad. Sure, I had family and friends who would chip in, but it was always a favor, something I had to ask for. No one had ever offered before, in all this time.

"Go on now," she laughed, pulling away from me. "You don't want Em kicking your ass."

"Right, that'll be the day."

"Black!"

Perfect timing Emmett, as usual. I kissed her again lightly; bounding down the stairs so fast I almost fell, grabbed my keys and wallet from the table at the entrance.

"Jeep?" he asked with his usual, flowery speech.

"Sure, sure."

We rode in the car in silence, Em vetoing the music for the morning. Guess it was too early for Crystal Meth for him. Pussy.

"So, ah, Jake, you know, we gotta talk a little."

"Fuck, Em, what?"

"Shut up and listen."

"Right."

"Look, you and Bella… you're good now?"

"I think so; I'm working on it anyway."

"Good."

"Yeah."

"So… look, you fuck this up again, I'm gonna beat the shit out of you."

"Whatever."

"No, I'm serious man, like baseball bats and crowbars serious. She's a good kid. It's been killing her you being an ass all winter."

"I know," I said, leaning back in my seat. I seriously did not need a lecture right now though.

"I won't just watch you fuck her over."

"Em, I'm not going to."

"Yeah, I totally trust that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't exactly have the Romeo track record, brother."

"Fuck, Em, you know, just fuck off, okay? I'm doing the best I can here, and I… I'm…"

"I know, Jake. You know I love you man. You just gotta sort yourself out."

"I know, Em… shit."

"Don't get mad at me. I'm not the one who bolted as soon as things got hard."

"Right, you're fucking Mr. Perfect, aren't you?"

"You don't want to do that now."

"Why not? You're here giving me relationship advice. You forget your past, brother?"

"No, but that's got nothing to do with this. I stayed!"

"Right, ever think maybe that wasn't the best thing?"

"Jake…" Em warned, slowing the car due to his distraction.

"Whatever."

"I don't wanna fight with you… I just… I need you to be careful with her."

"Yeah."

"She's something special."

"Yeah…"

"I don't want to see either of you like this anymore, okay?"

"I know, Em… I do… she's… she's fucking everything… I just…"

"What?"

"I don't know how to do this," I admitted, hating being such a pussy about the whole thing, but Emmett was usually right, as much as I didn't want to hear it.

"Seems like you're doing okay. I mean, you stayed the night, right?"

"Yeah, but you know, not like that…"

"Oh… Ohhhh!"

"Look, I'm not complaining. I can't believe she'll even talk to me…"

"Seriously," he snorted.

"Don't laugh at me, okay? I'm not good at this shit."

"I know. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Jake," he said, turning to me as he stopped the engine; we were at the station now. "Man, you're a fuck up, always have been, but you're the best guy I know, okay? You just gotta let go of all that shit you hold onto. I don't know what it is, but there's something about you and Bella... it's different, and I want that for you."

"Thanks, Em… I do too…"

"Okay then," he said, getting out of the car. Our uncomfortable confessional was over as we strolled into the station.

That morning the guys had their meeting while I changed a broken headlamp on one of the trucks and tried to track down an oil leak in another. I made a list of the things I'd need to fix it for the captain to order, and then I ran over all the hoses, making sure there weren't any leaks.

These trucks were beautiful to me. They lived to serve a purpose. Every part of them was designed for just what they did, but they managed to be elegant at the same time. I loved that our trucks were red still. So many stations were changing to black or white, and that was just… wrong. Even Royce knows what color a fire truck's supposed to be!

While I communed with the machinery, Cap came in. "Black – you up for a training round?"

"Definitely, Cap, let me change."

I ran to the locker-room and took out the set of clothes I kept here. I tried to bring clean ones every week, but sometimes, it's good to have a back up. I loved the station. It was all the good things of the Air Force without all the Yessir crap. Here I got to do what I loved and got to help them do something really important. It made it seem, for at least a little while, my time in this fuck hole wasn't a total waste.

No, that was old thinking. Em was right; I had to readjust. Forks wasn't a fuck hole; it was just a place where some seriously bad shit happened to me, but the town itself, well, it was charming. Really, it was the kind of place I'd want to live if I got to choose, fact that I got no choice in it just rubbed me the wrong way.

Plus, once a week, Cap called on me to kick the guys asses in the gym. Sometimes we'd get together another day, but Monday mornings, if I didn't have too much to do on the trucks, I got to run them into the ground, and there was something extremely satisfying in that. I found escape in getting my body going, my muscles burning while I zoned out my brain, euphoria, nirvana, whatever it was it, helped me reorganize the chaos.

"All right, cocksuckers!" I called, walking into the room and feeling bigger, stronger, when I was in this role. "Ten minutes top speed around the perimeter – and then we'll start to burn! Move!"

I took off, taking the lead and staying there. I was always fast, and days like today I needed to feel my legs transport me, build me higher. If I could run, if I could blast through this fucking wall of pain I hit whenever I started, maybe I could be strong enough for Bella.

Fucking Bella. She was... God, the things she did to me. How did she manage to make me feel so good, like a god, when she touched me? No sex with her was better than any actual sex I'd had before her. Jessica was never all that, though she liked to think she was, wagging that ass in my face still. But when it came down to it, she wasn't much of a… participant. And the few chicks I'd been with after her, well, all that taught me was I wasn't the casual sex kind of guy. It just didn't do anything for me.

That girl though, she was nothing like anyone I'd known before. She was sweet and kind and warm, always thinking of other people before herself, but that fire she'd sparked while we were apart. I couldn't lie; it was sexy as fuck to know she wasn't going to put up with shit, that she would hold strong. I liked knowing that she could take care of herself, but she wanted me with her. Sexy as hell, I tell you.

I ran until the fire in my legs was a roar, lapping a few of the guys in the process. Only seven minutes in, and I was sweating, and my body was roaring. Yeah, I was just hitting my groove. I pushed harder, going faster than I had before, letting my muscles drive my mind further out of the confusion I usually swam in. Today, I'd have class to teach for a few hours after this, then probably a night at home with the old man. Hadn't seen him much lately.

The thing I hated the most was turning into him. He's the one who retreated when things got tough, and I'd bought into it, turning away from him and Bella and Paul and everyone else. Fuck, I'd done to them the same thing he'd been doing to me my whole fucking life. I'd have to swing by the garage tomorrow… I'd only been there for appointments for… fuck… too long.

"All right, finish the lap you're on," I called, my voice booming over the complaints and panting of the guys.

"Line up! Square and Center, Mountain Climber – three minutes! GO!" I called when everyone was in position, pressing the stop option on my watch before dropping and pounding my legs against the padded floor. Fuck if it didn't feel good.

I slammed the guys hard that morning, needing the clarity of exhaustion for myself and taking them along for the ride. We lifted, we jumped, we stretched, and we did the full circuit this time. They'd be up to par soon if only they'd come in more than once a week. Only one of them threw up though, so it couldn't have been too bad.

After a shower and slipping my clothes back on, I walked out into the station house with a smile plastered on my face to find three of them lying on the floor groaning.

"Come on, ya' pansies, stop complaining," I said, kicking Tyler Crowley in the abs gently and making him grunt at me.

"Black, you are Satan."

"Been said," I laughed, grabbing a water bottle and sitting down.

"Seriously though, what was with those fucking pushup jumps, you bitch?"

"Heh, those are brutal, true?"

"What the fuck got into you today, man?"

"Bella," Emmett moaned from behind the couch. I hadn't seen him there.

"Shut up. Just cause ya'll can't play with the big dogs doesn't mean there's anything with me."

"Fuck you!" they called, almost in unison.

"Ha." I drank half my bottle in one gulp before checking my phone for messages.

Hey, it's Bella, just wanted to let you know your dad's fine. I made him some breakfast though, you know, man can't live on cereal alone! Okay, well, talk to you later. She laughed, and I hit save, wanting to be able to hear that laugh again.

"Look at that smile, man; you're whipped."

"Maybe so, maybe so," I laughed, not even concerned with that. I'd take whipped any day if it meant I could have Bella.

"All right, fuckers, I gotta get to the school. Em, I'll pick you up on my way home, yeah?"

"Ahhhhnngg," he moaned his consent from his prone position.

"Ha, later," I laughed as I walked outside.

Damn, the sky was clear today, almost like Spring for once. I let myself enjoy the weather for a minute before heading off to the next thing on my schedule. I loved living like this; everyday was different. I had all the time to do what I wanted but plenty of work I loved.

Taking off to the college, I knew I was lucky, blessed even, if you believe in that shit. The program was awesome: three five-hour classes a week, plus free use of their tools and machinery if I needed something Paul didn't have at his shop. The kids in there were good, for the most part. Some came from pretty far out since we had the best mechanics program. If you could get out of my class with a passing grade, you were pretty well guaranteed to get that license without much trouble. And I made it that way on purpose. People had to know they could trust whoever they hired.

I might be a greasy mechanic, but fuck if I didn't do a good job and take pride in it. Half Paul's customers requested I do the work, but I only took on a few a week, in exchange for scrap metal from the hotbox. That was the best part about the Air Force. I didn't have to do all that orders crap like the flyboys; just showed up, did my job, stayed in line, and that was that. It gave me focus, made me appreciate what time I had.

I hadn't been out to the hotbox for a while; nothing worth working on lately, except my lady. She'd been consuming me all these months; I thought maybe I would be ready to put the final touches on her soon.

Class that afternoon was slow. I was watching the clock like one of the kids, just wanting to get back to Bella -just to kiss her again before heading home to make dinner for my dad. I couldn't help the smile I had on my face thinking of her. Good thing the kids were busy rebuilding carburetors today. They had till Thursday at 1:00 PM to get it right, or they had to start over. So today, I was just a place holder, a help desk if something went wrong for them, and they were well taught, so it was rare that something did.

I couldn't help my mind drifting to Bella, to her lips, her touch. Fuck if last night she didn't have me where she wanted me. There's nothing I wouldn't do for that girl, and all she wanted was for me to give her a reason to trust me. Time though, time was what I'd have to give her, however much she wanted, needed, to believe that I wasn't going anywhere. And as I thought it, I knew it was true. I wasn't going anywhere. This was it; I was done.

I couldn't help the fear that came with that. I'd thought the same thing with Jess, thought I'd spend my life with her, do anything for her. But my head was on so backwards I didn't see the bitch standing in front of me, only the dream I'd been living in.

"Mr Black! Can you come here?"

"Yeah, yeah, what's up?"

I picked Em up on the way out, taking him back to Rose's house. Being friends with her was weird as shit, but Paul and she handled it better now, and Rachel seemed to be mellowing him out. There was a lot of past there too. Guess that was just one more thing I had to readjust in my head though. Last night, just being with Bella and Em and Rose, it was crazy; it felt like… home.

Never had that before. Even at the Uleys', I was the kid who they took in, not that they didn't love me, but I wasn't theirs, and they knew it. I knew it. Just shooting the shit with Em, he was solid to the core, no doubt about that, just shooting the shit with him with Bella on my lap was like a piece of heaven.

At her house, the lights were out -no one home yet -so I hopped in the Rabbit, calling to Em, and zipped home. Don't know where Bella was, but she had a life for the last six months without me -shouldn't expect that to change now.

Fuck if my chest didn't tighten up a little, though, at not seeing her. I just… wanted to see her, nothing more than that, just, like touching my blarney stone, knowing she was still there.

Driving home, I ran over the last few months, all the fucking mistakes I'd made. Sitting on my ass, letting her drift away. She was right; I was chicken shit. It had nothing to do with keeping her safe, much as I might like to pretend it did. It had to do with me, with being scared as fuck of getting hurt. I don't know what made me such a pansy, but I was, and all the time I put in trying to protect myself just made it hurt more.

Being away from her was like a physical pain. The pull of her, to get to her made me run on the beach in the snow just to get away. Everyday I'd find myself unconsciously driving to the school or her house, not even realizing what I was doing. And then I'd stop. I'd turn the car around and run. I was a fucking idiot. But last night, she'd let me hold her. I held her as she fell asleep, staying awake just to watch her. I touched her hair, her face, while she slept, trying to tell her how sorry I was.

In my driveway when I pulled in was the familiar red truck that had been my dad's since before I was born. I never wanted a day to go by that I didn't see that fucking truck, or the woman who drove it now. Walking in, I found her sitting on the couch, my Dad in the recliner… how'd she managed that? They were watching the news in silence.

"Hey! You're here."

"Yeah… shhh, he fell asleep," she said, getting up and taking my hand to pull me to the kitchen. Her small hand was cool to the touch, and I could feel it warm the longer it was in mine.

"What's going on?" I asked, seeing the concern in her face.

"I don't know, Jake. I got here this afternoon, and he was like wild, like a kid on a sugar high, so I got him something to eat and settled him in the chair, and he just passed out." She bit on her lip, clearly worried about him.

"Ahh, man, yeah, that happens. Sorry, Bells. I should have warned you."

"What's up with him?"

"It's his sugar levels; his body just can't regulate it anymore since the accident. There's no real reason why, but I guess from not moving around as much or something. The doctors want to put him on insulin, but he just won't do it."

"Well, it's not good for him to be here alone like that."

"I know, but I have to work," I said, pulling my hand over my head. I didn't want her pulled into this. She should be treasured and worshiped, not having to deal with this shit.

"Yeah, I know… We'll think of something." She smiled at me; her pronoun stunned me into silence. "Here, um, I sterilized his catheters. They seemed to be getting reused." She gave me a harsh look.

"Thanks… I need to get some more one of these days."

"Jake, you know, I… I don't mind helping if you need it, you know?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"Don't do that."

"What?"

"We've been over this, Jacob Black; don't shut me out."

I sat down, feeling the weight of my life bearing down on me, my strength from the morning shattering under it. "Sorry," I mumbled at the table.

I expected her to yell at me, tell me I was fucking up my dad's life as well as mine, tell me this wasn't what she was signing on for, but as always, Bella surprised me. When would I ever learn that she was so much stronger than I gave her credit for?

She sat down across from me, having gotten her leather notebook and a pen out of her bag, looking at me sternly.

"Okay, what do we need to do?"

"What?"

"A list, come on, you know, where you write things down and then deal with them?"

"I know what a list is."

"Well, you need one. First thing, you need clean catheters. Does he have Medicare?"

"What? Ahh, yeah, that's how we get his PT."

"Okay, well, they should give you sterile needles and everything else, so we need to call them and find out. And then we need to get him to the doctor about his sugar."

"Yeah, I've taken him."

"But he won't do it?"

"Nope."

"Maybe he'll do it for me…"

"Bella, you don't have to…"

"Shut up."

"Okay" I chuckled, letting her, for the first time in my life, letting someone take care of me.

"So the tub doesn't have a seat in it. You need one of those, or he's going to get hurt." She scribbled away, thinking through my father's disability more than I ever had. By the time she was done, she had a page of notes, with either her name or mine next to every item.

"So tomorrow you'll go to the grocery store and get some actual vegetables, right?" she said, eyeing me.

"Yeah, yeah."

"You may be able to eat like a forteen year old, but he can't."

"Okay!" I laughed, knowing she was right and needing to step up and do it.

"You know, Jake, you've done an amazing job here, with him, keeping him safe. I'm not saying you aren't."

"I know, Bells, but there's more I need to do, and you… I can't believe you," I smiled.

"Well, it's not even five yet, so I'm gonna make some calls… you get me his paperwork?"

"Yeah, thanks." I kissed her on the head on my way to the back room where I kept all his documents, relief and gratitude filling me. Whatever God brought her to me was the one I would pray to, no matter what language or custom. Anyone who could give me this gift…

Our house was small, but there were three bedrooms. My dad's and mine, and then the back room which had always been a storage room more than anything else -a place for all our paperwork and a little desk to sit at paying bills. But as I riffled through the files, looking for the enrollment paperwork, it occurred to me… there's no reason why… Maybe this could be a room for us, for me and Bella…

Shaking my head, I banished the thought for now, getting ahead of myself. I took the paperwork out, putting my hand on my dad's sleeping shoulder as I passed, finally finding peace.


	23. Chapter 23

Jake and I, working as a team, were extremely efficient. I managed to get Billy covered under his Medicare for one of those programs that sends sterile medical equipment to your house for free and then does the billing for you, plus make a doctor's appointment for Thursday when Jake and I could both go. I started to feel a little bad, taking over, but it felt so good to do something for them, to be active – proactive about life.

Billy'd really scared me earlier. I guess I hadn't really understood what Jake had to deal with every day, but when I went in his room to get a blanket, seeing the catheters on the bedside table and the lift Billy had to use to get himself in and out of bed, it just hit me. Jacob was only twenty-one years old, barely old enough to be considered an adult, and here he was, taking care of his dad, who, thanks to feeling like crap, tended to be surly and resentful. Even the best people can get nasty when they're faced with their limitations.

Every time I'd worry about overstepping, though, I would find Jake looking at me with the softest expression in his eyes. Every time I'd think maybe I shouldn't have said that, I'd look to see relief dripping of off him. Taking care of them came naturally to me. It didn't feel like work. It felt like… life. As I made calls and sorted paperwork, pulling out applications for services Jake hadn't gotten around to, he started making dinner. Sitting at his kitchen table, watching him searching in the pantry for something I wouldn't object to for dinner, I was happy.

It was a simple, soft happiness -the kind that you don't even realize is happening in the moment, but the kind that when it's gone, you miss. Jacob and I, together, against the world.

That night, he needed to stay with his dad, who was still pretty out of it even after eating some dinner.

"I gotta go home."

"Why? You can stay here… if the bed's too small, I'll sleep on the floor."

"It's not that, Jake."

"Okay." Sadness fell in his eyes as he accepted what he thought was dismissal.

"Jake…" I said, stepping closer where he was standing in the kitchen, putting dishes away. I put my hand over his heart, just to feel its beating, and looked up into his eyes. "Babe, I don't have any clothes here or anything and you need to be with your dad…"

"I know, Bella. I just… tonight, this was great. Just having you here..." He put his hands on my hips and leaned against the counter, pulling me closer to him.

"It was," I smiled, leaning in to kiss his soft lips. He sighed and leaned his forehead against me.

"Nobody's ever… helped me like that before. Or wanted to."

"Well, I do. As long as you don't mind, I want to help, okay?"

"Thanks, Bella," he said, kissing my forehead.

"Yeah…" I mumbled stupidly, other words on the tip of my tongue, trapped in their silver casing, locked down but fighting to get free.

"Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah." Walking away from him was almost impossible, but I needed to. It was too much to just fall in so quick. I was still so sure he was going to bolt, and I'd be left sitting, waiting for him to come home. My heart couldn't take it again, and if that meant holding back, at least for now, that's what I needed to do.

His skin was warm; pulling away left me wrapped in chills alone. Driving home, I found the dark soothing. It was dark here, darker than it ever got in Phoenix -few streetlights and not enough houses to light up the sky. My eyes could see the layers of dark in the tress and sky, leading back into the abyss of nothing. Darkness was soothing. It always held unspoken promises of adventure and seduction. Maybe that's why all the best love stories happen at night.

Sleep came peacefully that night, wrapped in Jake's t-shirt that still smelled like the ocean and sunshine. I dreamed of a little girl with pigtails and red shoes. She spoke to me, telling my soul all the things I longed to hear before she walked into the tide, letting the water surround her and carry her away; but not before promising to return. I woke lonelier than the day before, like there was something missing in my life that I just needed to find. It was there, lost or hidden, waiting for me.

_bllling blllling _

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe."

"Morning, Jake!"

"You sleep okay?"

"Yeah, okay -weird dreams but okay."

"You remember them?" I heard him leaning back and imagined him lying in his bed with one arm above his head.

"Some… it's oksy though."

"I had some pretty good dreams," he said huskily, his voice reaching through the phone to caress my skin.

"Yeah?" I leaned back on my pillow with a soft smile on my face.

"Yeah… it was pretty explicit though."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

"About Quil then?"

"Hmmm, yep, hot man love in my dreams is the best."

"I always suspected."

"I was dreaming about you, Bella."

"Were we scuba diving?"

"No."

"Hmmm, mountain biking?"

"Nope."

"I can't imagine what we were doing then," I teased, my smile wide.

"Well, it was more about what I was doing to you."

"Hmmm?"

"And where I was doing it."

"Hmmm?"

"And how you tasted…"

"Jake…"

"I missed you last night."

"Yeah…"

"I wanted to hold you… wrap you up in my arms."

"Yeah."

"I wanted to kiss you, your lips, your neck… I wanted to taste your skin."

"I…" I was having trouble keeping up with the conversation; he was so sexy with his scratchy morning voice.

"Bella, I wanted to kiss you and lick you and touch you. I can't get enough of you. I could almost feel myself inside of you, so warm…"

"Jake…"

"Yeah… I like it when you say my name."

"Yeah… what else do you like?"

"I like it when you scream my name."

"Jake…"

"I like it when I'm touching you, when you get wet for me… baby, I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too."

"I want you so bad."

"Yeah…"

"I want to taste you. I want to kiss your skin. I want to go down on you and make love to you until you can't stand it."

"Ohhh," I quivered, his words pushing me further than any dream I'd ever had.

"Can you touch yourself? Can you touch yourself for me…"

"Jake…"

"Tell me; are you?"

"Yeah…" I said, letting my hand move down my body, cupping my mound, and letting my fingers put pressure just where I needed to feel it.

"Good… imagine it's me… close your eyes; feel me against you."

"Jake…"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I…"

"Yeah… I want you to feel me, feel me rubbing you, stroking you."

"God."

"Feel good."

"Oh, God…"

"Reach lower for me baby.."

"Okay…" I breathed, not thinking anymore and just letting his voice make love to me.

"Reach lower and put your finger in. Reach in, baby, feel me inside you."

"Jake!"

"Fuck, baby, I want to be there. I want to make you come. I want to stroke you and lick you and make you scream."

"I…"

"Put another finger in… come on, feel me fill you up."

"Jake… Oh… I…."

"Yeah… keep going, baby, keep going. Let my lips kiss your neck with my hand on your tit, rubbing it and pulling it hard. I want to hurt you; I want to make you scream."

"I… Jake…"

"Let me in, baby, let me stroke you."

"I… Oh… I… God…" I quivered, clenching down on my own fingers, my palm against my clit making me drop the phone while I rolled over to get the best angle, the best pressure… right… there…. "Jake!"

"Jake… you there?" I said, picking my phone back up while my breath was still ragged.

"Fuck, Bells, did you come?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck, that's hot… god…"

"Mmm… that was nice."

"It was."

"Maybe we can just do that from now on."

"Nope."

"No?"

"Nope… I'm happy to wait as long as you want, Bella, but fuck if I'm not dying to make love to you."

"Jake…"

"No, no pressure, seriously… I just… fuck… I'm saying this all wrong."

"No, you aren't… you've just never called it making love before."

"Oh…"

"I like it."

"Good… cause… yeah…"

"Don't get shy."

"I'm not."

"You are, you big sap."

"Bella…" he growled, but I could hear the laugh behind it.

"Heh, okay, well, good morning."

"This was a nice way to wake up."

"Yeah."

"Come over after school today?"

"Sure, where are you this morning?"

"Oh, I'm gonna go for a run and then go to Paul's. I haven't… I haven't been a very good friend lately, so I thought I'd go help out over there for the day."

"Good, he'll be glad to see you."

"Yeah…"

"Meet you at your place at like 3:30?"

"Okay."

"Remember to go grocery shopping."

"Yes, Mom."

"Shut up."

"Yes, Mom."

"Jacob Black…"

"You didn't use my middle name, so I guess you aren't my mom."

"Wait, you know, I don't think I even know your middle name."

"Really? That's a little weird."

"It is… what is it?"

"Ephraim."

"Ephraim?"

"Yes, Ephraim."

"Jacob Ephraim Black?"

"Yes… is that a problem, Isabella Marie Swan?"

"Hey!"

"What?"

"How'd you know that?"

"Driver's license."

"You're a stalker."

"Maybe," he chuckled, and the sound of his happiness matched the smile on my face.

"Okay… this afternoon?"

"See you then."

"Bye."

"Hey, Bells?"

"Yeah?"

"Ummm… just have a good day, okay?"

"You too, Jake."

"Bye." He hung up the phone, leaving me with a smile that warmed the room.

I threw an extra pair of jeans and some shirts in a bag… I may hate Jake's little bed, but he couldn't come here all the time, and I wanted to be able to stay with him… more… always. It was hard not to just fall into life with Jake. I wanted to spend every second with him; I wanted to dive in and be his. But I needed to hold on; there was no rush, and it had only been three days. What was to stop him from running? I couldn't give him all of me yet. I just… couldn't. It was too terrifying to consider the possibilities of him leaving.

Just the thought of it made my stomach clench and my body revolt. I didn't think I could survive it again, and my fight or flight instinct demanded that I push it to the back of my mind. The less I allowed myself to consider the possibility, the less I pulled away from him. Time: I needed time for him to -I don't know -show me, tell me, make me believe he was really here. Everything could be so perfect. I knew it could; I could taste my life with him I wanted it so badly, but that darkness shadowed my vision, keeping it just out of sight.

Classes that day were a joke; it was only a few weeks until the end of the year, and the kids had mostly given up. They all had one more big paper to turn in, but other than that, getting them to do anything remotely on task and not just stare out the window was a waste of time. So instead of class, we went to the library for the 9th graders, letting them work on their research. I sent the 10th graders and juniors to the computer lab, and the seniors, well, they were a lost cause, so I took them outside. We sat in the grass behind the school, and the kids read.

Sam Uley walked up to me about halfway through that class. "So, Bella, sunbathing?"

"Hmmm, hi, Sam," I said, sitting up from my prone position. I knew him well enough to know he wasn't angry, but still, the kids needed to see him as the principal.

"So I was talking to Emily, and she's thinking about putting together a summer program... didn't know what you had planned, but…"

I had always assumed I would go visit my mother for the summer, but I couldn't think of a single reason to do that. I had no friends there and little to no relationship with her anymore. I had gotten a short note back from her about my book; she clearly hadn't understood a single word in it.

Staying here was the natural thing to do. As much as I'd only been looking for an escape when I arrived, this was more my home now than anywhere else, and I couldn't imagine spending months away from Angela, Alice, Rose… Jake…

"Yeah, Sam, I don't have any plans yet… I'd love to do that."

"Great! Great!" His relief shone like a beacon. "You know, some of the kids here, they just don't know what to do with themselves in the summer and get into trouble. thought we could do something laid back for them to come to with some workshops and such. Talk to Emily about it; it's really her baby. I'm trying to get some funding from the council, so we can pay you guys without charging the kids much…"

"That sounds good, Sam. I'll talk to Em; thanks for thinking of me."

"Of course, Bella! Hach-cha!"

That was the first time Sam had spoken to me in Quileute. It wasn't much. He'd only told me that I was great, but something about it made my heart sing with acceptance. Yes, this was where I belonged -here, in Forks, in La Push. I was straddling a line that had broken others, a line that looked more like a wall until you were up close and saw that it was just chalk; it wasn't made of anything substantial. It wasn't anything a little rain couldn't wash away.

Creative Writing was my last and favorite class of the day. I was going to have to make sure the schedule stayed that way next year; it was the ideal way to end my day. Today we worked outside in groups or read each other's work. No outside literature, only something from someone in the class. Three of the kids showed up with a copy of my book.

"I like this one, Bella," Colin cried before breaking out reciting one of my more… explicit pieces.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you all love that one," I laughed.

"God, that's not about Jake, is it?" Seth whined from his perch in the tree above me, making me blush much deeper than I had expected.

"Ohh, are we gonna have another Hítkwol-cha?"

"Brady!"

"What? It's a legitimate question."

"From a retard maybe," Claire piped up though she was usually silent in class. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Claire, watch the language, okay? I'm still the teacher."

"Sure, Bella, but seriously, Brady, do you have, like, brain damage? Should I get you a helmet and a drool bib for when the short bus comes to pick you up? I can't fucking believe you."

"Why? There's already that little bastard living out there in Forks; we don't need some new race of half-breeds running around."

"Is that what you think, Brady?" I asked, trying to keep my temper in check – the instinct to protect Royce in full force.

"Sure."

"Are you sure? Is that what you think, or is that something you've been taught?"

"What?"

"You know, sometimes, it takes someone really strong to see the difference between what's always been and what could be." Like Jacob, I thought.

"Uhhh… I…" _God, being a teenager sucked_, I chuckled in my head, _especially when you got called to the carpet for something stupid you said. _

"All right, well, guess what? You all have another assignment."

"What? You said we were done!"

"For the _year_!"

"Yeah!"

"Well, ignorance must be conquered, right? So I want you all to write an essay or poem or something that speaks to you about what it means to be Quileute. Now, go on, fuck off, get out of here."

"_Language_!" they all cried in unison, making me laugh.

Jacob's house was a welcome relief. When I got there, Billy was working on his PT exercises, and Jake wasn't home yet, so I pulled out some more of Billy's medical bills, trying to see what we could get his insurance to cover. Jake… he'd done such a good job getting his dad healthy, but he was bleeding money. There was no reason Medicare or his disability insurance wasn't covering more of this. And so I set in on making phone calls and setting aside bills to be submitted for reimbursement and another pile for ones to save for taxes.

I was focused and knee-deep in what I was doing when Billy rolled in to the kitchen.

"Bella…" he said, interrupting my train of thoughts.

"Yeah… uh… what, Billy?"

"I just… I wanted to thank you, you know, for helping and being here. You don't have to."

"Yeah, I do."

"Hmmm, yeah… thanks for that too, kid."

"Sure, Billy," I smiled up at the sweet, awkward man. Jake was so much like him.

"All right then." He grabbed his book and wheeled out to the porch to read in the clear, sunny day while we waited for Jacob to come home.


	24. Chapter 24

I wrapped my arms around myself in the cool night air, looking out into the large yard. I was sure I saw something move along the tree line -perhaps one of the grey wolves I'd been spotting near my house. They seemed to be following me. I felt strangely connected to them, like I could understand their drive for survival. Nearly extinct, yet here they were, filling the forests and reasserting their position in the world.

That's what I was doing here, in a way. I felt alive for the first time in my life. I felt like I was able to make decisions and take control of who I was without relying on anyone else. I didn't need my mother's approval, and I was no longer standing in Edward's shadow. If anything, I was freer here in this little town than I'd ever been.

I heard the screen door open behind me as Jake stepped out onto the small porch. his arms wrapped around me and he rested his chin on the top of my head.

"You cold?"

"No, I'm perfect."

"Hmmm," he sighed, and I could feel the contentedness reverberate through his body. It was true, in every way: I was perfect.

"So Sam asked me to stay on for the summer."

"Yeah? That's great." He said softly, "Were you thinking about leaving?"

"No… not really. I mean, I guess the plan was to go back home, but when I thought about it, this is where I want to be."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah… I don't want to be anywhere else." I turned in his arms, looking up at his big brown eyes, so full of worry. "Baby, what's the matter?"

"I just… I guess I forgot you don't have to stay here. I never imagined you'd leave."

"I have no where else to be, Jake. This is my home."

"Here…"

"Yeah."

"Here with me?"

"Hmmm," I smiled back at him, not quite sure what he meant by that. My brain flipped into over-analytical mode -did he mean here with him, like, in this house or in this town? Did he mean like my life, or just for now? He'd been amazing, calming every fear I had with his simple slow adoration, but I couldn't help but feel jumpy when he started talking like this.

"Sorry," he said, shaking his head softly.

"No. I just… I don't know what you mean by that."

"Bella, I just mean... Damn, I wish I was better at telling you what I mean, what I feel. I'm sorry, I... I just like you being here. I'm glad Forks is your home, and you have friends and work that mean so much to you, but… I like it when you're here. I like you in my arms, in my bed."

"Not that bed."

"Bells, you know what I mean."

"I guess, but I have more to stay here for than just work and friends, Jake. I have you -you and Billy, and I can't imagine being anywhere you aren't."

"Me and Billy, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Sometimes I think you like that old man better than you like me."

"Hmmm… he's missing some essential functions I don't think I can live without."

"Is that so? You seem to be doing fine without it so far."

"Are you whining, Jacob?"

"No… just pointing out an observation."

I turned in his arms and leaned up to kiss him, an easy gesture that was comfortable and warm. It started slowly, just a kiss out in the night air, a stolen moment of intimacy in our day like so many others lately. Being here with him was like breathing; it restored me to who I was meant to be. We walked on the beach, and he cooked while I did the dishes or played cards with Billy.

Billy had consented to taking insulin at my insistence and was doing much better; his PT seemed to be going well, and everyday he was stronger and more independent. He'd never be able to live on his own again, but the stress on Jake was so much less now. I'd found a great comfort in my relationship with Billy too. My father died when I was so young… I longed for this time with him, and while Billy would never replace him, there was a place in my heart just for the Black men.

Our kiss grew to the point where I usually stepped away, asking Jacob for more time. He would drop his eyes but never complain or push. After a breath, he would wrap me back up in his arms and hold me close. But tonight was Friday, and it was the first weekend we didn't have something planned or that he didn't have to go away for reserves. Billy was already asleep, and the air was soothing. My life was simple; school would end in another week and a half, and everyone I knew was safe and happy. Including me.

Instead of pulling back, I held onto him tighter. Inertia was a dangerous thing in a relationship, and despite wanting to be with him again, it was almost habit now to step away. When I ran my fingers in his hair and pulled myself tighter against him, he groaned his pleasure, but I could feel him still holding back, afraid of the expected rejections.

"Jake," I whispered into his ear, causing a ripple of goose bumps to cascade down his spine, "Let's go to bed." I licked his lobe, so he wouldn't misunderstand my intention.

"Yeah?" he said, pulling away and looking into my eyes.

"Yeah… I… Jake, I love you."

His mouth was on mine then, so fast I didn't have time to get a breath in or see if he had heard me. His hands were hot and warm on my back, pulling me close to him. "Bella," he moaned as he kissed down my neck, pulling me up to him. His mouth grazed across my neck, so gently it was killing me. I wanted him; I was completely on fire, and his sweet caresses were making me insane.

"Jake, let's… come on…" I said, pulling away and taking his hand to lead him through the kitchen, down the hall and into his bedroom. The metal frame of his bed was gone now, and a full-sized mattress lay on the floor, too big for his room, but finally big enough that I could spend the night and get some actual sleep.

I turned toward him as he closed the door, hearing the click that would grant us at least the appearance of privacy. He was looking at me now, his gaze so intense I thought it would burn the clothes right off of me.

"Bells," he breathed, not taking a step further into the room and his voice breathy and low, "are you sure?"

I walked up to him, placing my hand over his heart, a gesture that calmed and connected us. "Baby, I love you. I want to feel you. I want to make love to you." I looked right into his eyes, holding nothing back. I was done now; this was it for me. Everything in my body screamed that my life was with Jacob Black. I didn't know exactly how or when that was going to work, but there was no sense not jumping in with both feet. I'd held him off long enough; it was time to let him in.

His hand came up to my face, and he stroked my cheek gently with his thumb before coming down and kissing me on the lips. He was in no rush, and his kiss lingered before he pulled my lip into his mouth. His tongue burned me as he ran it along my lips before licking me softly. Our tongues danced together, making love as our hands found their way under each other's clothes, desperate to feel skin.

I moaned as his mouth pulled away from mine, not wanting to lose contact, but when I opened my eyes and saw him pull off his shirt, my breath caught in my lungs. How could one person be so unbelievably beautiful? It was unfair to the rest of humanity that so much beauty and kindness had been allocated to this one man. But, greedily, I was glad because he was mine. I reached out to touch him, tracing my fingers along his collar bone and down the center of his chest. It was as if I had never seen him before.

I leaned forward and placed a kiss on his shoulder and then another just below his collarbone. Next, I leaned down and kissed just above his nipple, making it stand erect in anticipation. His body responded to me, but he held still, letting me look at him and take him in. I licked at him and pulled his nipple into my mouth deeply while his hands wrapped around my shoulders. I suckled as my hands traced the muscles on his sides down the path to his stomach and lower still.

"Bella," he said above me, making me look up with a smile. Locking his eyes with mine, he reached out and pulled my shirt up and over my head. Quickly, my bra was on the floor, and he was walking me further into the room, his hands on my back and his eyes staring deeply into my soul.

When we reached the bed, I lay down, and he lowered himself slowly until he hovered above me. Reaching out, I glided my hands over his shoulders and down his sides, wrapping my arms further around him and then up his back, and I held on, pulling myself up against him.

His lips were soft against my skin. He began kissing my face before moving down my neck, forcing me down into the mattress with his body. His hand found mine, and our fingers were quickly laced together. His mouth caressed my shoulders and across the top of my breasts. I closed my eyes, transported by the smell of him and the feel of him against my skin. This wasn't the first time he'd touched me like this recently, but there was something reverent about his kiss tonight that heightened every moment.

"Beautiful," he whispered against my skin before taking my nipple into his mouth, releasing my hand and bringing it to the other breast. He moaned against me, making me bend my legs with desire. The dual sensations of his hands on my skin and his mouth on my breast were making my mind phase out. My body was completely in control.

His mouth moved down, leaving a trail of cool moisture behind. He kissed down my stomach and below my navel before coming to my jeans. His eyes, thick with passion, looked up at me, a question on his lips.

"Yes," I said to him, "always yes." I pulled my hands up over my eyes, dragging them into my hair to try to still myself while he undid my jeans deftly, kissing the satin fabric he found beneath before pulling them off of me.

His mouth was on me before my brain even registered that he had taken my underwear too, making me cry out in surprise and passion. He didn't ease me into it like he usually did, just sliced through me with his warm tongue, sucking on my clit and making me scream with the sensation, overwhelming my senses.

"Jake... I... god, slow down."

"No," he growled into my flesh, his voice muffled by my lips. "I want to taste you. I need to… god… I need you."

Wailing, I submitted to him; his tongue split me open, reaching inside of me and dragging up along my lips to suck and nip at my clit. He licked up the length of me, dipping his tongue inside of me and making me squirm with desire. I wanted more. His hands controlled my hips, not letting me eek out the orgasm I was so close to having.

I wrapped my thighs around his neck, momentarily concerned that he might suffocate. He grabbed me, sitting back and pulling me with him so that my weight was on his shoulders and the back of my head -the rest of me in the air, my cunt on his lips.

"God!" I moaned, rolling away from him only to have his hands bind me into position. He lapped at me, pulling me so far into his mouth I thought I was going to explode. His lips moved against me as my hips bucked, desperate for more. I moaned with abandon, writhing under his attention until he bit down, his top teeth pressing directly against my clit, making me scream and arch back.

"Oh, my god," I said, coming down from my high as my weight fell down on the bed.

Jake stood up and undid his jeans, dropping them and his boxer briefs to the ground. His mouth glistened with my moisture until he wiped it away with the back of his hand. "You taste so fucking good," he said as he came down to the bed next to me, his cock throbbing and red. I could see the effect the famine had had on him, but he never complained.

Grabbing his shoulders, I slid up along him, bringing my leg up over his hip. "You make me feel so fucking good," I whispered, connecting deeply to his eyes again. I pulled him on top of me, rolling back and under him and making room for him between my legs. "Make love to me." He shivered before reaching between us and gliding into me.

I'd forgotten his size, and I moaned at the sensation of being so thoroughly stretched as he slowly pushed into me. His eyes captured mine, and the depth of what he was feeling melted any concerns I had over giving myself to this man. He watched my face as he inched his way into me, his breathing matching my own hilted gasps.

"Oh Bells…" he moaned as he brought his lips down to mine, sliding his hand under me and pulling me closer to him. His hips rocked against me, and I met him for each thrust. Our tongues worked in unison with our bodies, every part of us working together, driving him deeper and deeper into my heart.

"Fuck." He punched the mattress next to my head, pulling up from me, lost in the sensation of our bodies. Hitting a new, higher angle now, I called out, bringing my legs up around his hips.

"Jake…" I cried as he worked me, turning his hips at impossible angles and bringing me higher and higher. His eyes were closed now, and I looked at his chest, beading sweat as he rocked against me so hard, so sweet.

"Uhhh," he moaned, dropping down to his elbow with my leg pinned under his body and burrowing himself further into me, which made me reach to the wall above my head to keep from moving away.

"Fuck, baby, yeah, oh, god…" I clung to him with my free hand until I couldn't take any more, and I wrapped both hands around his strong back, begging him to save me from the excruciating sensation building inside of me.

"Jake!" I convulsed around him, pulling him into me, shaking and slamming my body onto him, and needing more, needing everything he had to give. I clung to his body as he pushed further into me, and a low howl escaped from his lips

before he bit down on my shoulder and jerked again and again into me until there was a final, throat-strangled cry.

"Bella, Bella," he sighed over and over, "Fuck, baby." He kissed my shoulder, my neck, my lips. "You know... you know I love you too, right?" he said with so many emotions swirling in his eyes.

"I know, love," I kissed him back, smiling into the skin of his neck "I know." We lay there together, hot and satisfied, drifting into sleep as he softened inside of me. "Baby, I need to get up for a sec." I ran quickly to the bathroom after throwing his shirt on over my head.

Slipping back into the bed was heaven. He had turned down the sheets and climbed in after opening the window to let the clean night air in. I took off his shirt before sliding next to him, wanting to feel him with my whole body.

"Hey," he said as I wrapped my arm around his middle and settled my head onto his chest. He kissed me absently, our bliss the visage we were both absorbed by. I traced the lines of his muscles, making my way slowly up his chest and scratching softly there.

His breathing slowed to a purr as I ran my fingers across his skin. Nothing needed to be said; we'd both said everything the other needed to hear with words and without.

"Goodnight, baby." He kissed me on the head.

"Goodnight, Jake," I kissed him again before rolling onto my side. He snuggled up behind me, pulling me against his body and making me feel small and safe.

"I love you. I love you so fucking much it kills me," he said earnestly into my hair.

"I love you too, Jake. Sleep." And we drifted off together.

"Kids? Hey, kids, you up?" I dreamed Billy's voice was floating around me, the sun shining through my thin eyelids.

"Kids! Hey, Jake… I need to talk to you."

"Huh?" Jake said, his eyes fluttering open, "What?"

"Jake, you up?" Billy called before turning the knob on our door -something he had never done before.

I quickly pulled the sheets up over as much of my skin as I could before turning to the door. Sitting in his chair was Billy with his hand over his eyes and a smile on his face. "Is it safe?" he asked before chuckling and opening his eyes.

"Morning, Billy," I smiled up at him, happy to see his playful side coming out.

"Good Morning to you, Miss Bella! I just wanted to let you two know I was heading out."

"What?" Jake sat up, completely taken off guard by his father's announcement. At my insistence, Jacob had talked to what family lived in the area about taking his father out sometimes. That stubborn Black pride made him fight me until I convinced him it wasn't about his ability to take care of his dad but Billy's need to have a life outside of this house.

"Well, Harry called and said the weather's gorgeous, so we're going to take his boat out fishing."

Jake frowned, still not happy about his paraplegic father out in the water.

"Dad, I don't know… what about the pier?"

"Jacob, I am exactly twenty-one years and ten months older than you, so don't start parenting me now."

"All right, Dad, just be careful, okay?"

"Sure, yeah, right… I'll try to keep the drinking and pimping to a minimum," Billy chuckled, rolling out of our room backwards and reaching to close the door behind him.

"Have fun, Billy," I called before the door shut completely.

"That man is a lunatic," Jake laughed, falling back on his pillow.

"Good to see, huh?"

"Yeah… he seems happier lately, happier than he was even when I was a kid."

"Must be me."

"I think it is, Bella."

"Nah, Jake, I was kidding."

"No, really, I think he likes having you here, having someone fuss over him and bring a little softness to our lives. He's… different when you're here, almost like he was when I was little."

"Well, I like him too; it's kind of like having my dad around. I don't know... it's nice."

"I'm glad him living here doesn't bother you."

"That's ridiculous, Jake." I propped up on my shoulder to look down at him. "You know I care about Billy. I knew he lived with you before we started all this."

"I know, but it's... it's another thing to deal with, and a lot of people, they'd use it as an excuse to not get too close."

"I think I'm in whole hog now."

"Whole hog?"

"Yeah."

"Are you from the Appalachians?"

"No, it's a phrase, not the prettiest, I admit, but…"

"Hick."

"Red-Skin."

He laughed his beautiful unrestrained laugh and looked up at me. "Come on, I have something I want to show you." He stood up, effectively pulling the sheet off of me before stepping off the mattress to pull on clean underwear and shorts.

I got up and opened the drawer in his small dresser that held a small selection of clothing I kept here. I constantly had to wash and bring something else so there'd be something here in the mornings for work. I wished we had a bigger room -someplace I could put my stuff.

We dressed quietly, and as I was pulling on a shirt, Jake went out to start coffee. This morning, he came back with two hot mugs and a smile.

"He even made us coffee."

"Wow, thank god for Billy Black."

"Most definitely."

"He must be in a good mood. Wonder what got into him..."

"He's probably just glad we've worked everything out."

"How would he.."

"Well, you're loud…"

"Jacob!"

"Maybe I should buy him ear plugs."

"Jake!" I laughed, blushing horribly.

"Or I could get you some kind of gag…" He was musing now, talking for his own entertainment.

"All right, that's enough, you big bully."

"What?" Innocence was a difficult mask for Jacob to wear, but he was trying.

"Whatever." I smiled up at him as I walked out into the living room, my coffee in my hand. "So next weekend's the wedding..." I started, seeing the invitation on the table.

"Yeah, crap, I still need to go get that tux."

"I can't believe you're wearing a tux."

"Why? I'm a groomsman; I have to wear a tux."

"I don't know… it's just... odd. I just can't picture it."

"I'm thinking of driving over to Idaho and getting a gun too, so I can be all James Bond."

"I think you should. Sam would be uber-impressed with that."

"Well, you know, that's what I live for -Sam Uley's approval," he laughed, leaning against the frame of the opening between the living room and kitchen.

"I still have to find a dress; Alice keeps threatening to buy something for me if I don't pick something soon."

"I'm sure you'll find something nice."

"Yeah." I bit my lower lip, making him laugh. "I just can't believe they're getting married."

"Why? They've been together, like, their whole lives."

"I don't know... it's just... married."

"Seems kind of natural."

"I mean, that's so scary."

"Hmmm, yes, the impending death of matrimony... can't have that."

"Not for me," I said, not registering the wince in his eyes before he spoke again.

"Well, good thing no one's asked you then."

"Yeah, I guess so," I laughed.

"Come on out back; I want to show you something."

Jake walked out the back door into the morning sunlight. It was beautiful here; still chilly enough to need a sweater, but the heat would burn off the clouds, and the sky would be clear by noon. He walked around to the side of the house, away from the road, to an area I hadn't seen before. There was an old, wooden fence with chicken wire surrounding a large plot of land that was grown over with weeds and vines.

"You wanted to show me your weed patch?"

"No, Bitchy McBitch-head," he laughed.

"What was that?"

"Yeah, I don't know," he laughed again as I bumped my side against him, making him side step before stopping and opening a small gate.

"So, this, Bella, was not a weed patch." He opened his arm, gesturing me in so that he could close the gate. "This was my mother's garden."

"Oh, my god…"

"Some of these vines still fruit, but it's totally unkempt. My Dad never did anything with it after she died."

"Jake, this is so great."

"Yeah, well, I thought, if you wanted, we could work on cleaning it up and getting it set up again. It gets great light, and you've been talking about-" I cut him off with a kiss before he had a chance to continue. What an amazing, kind thing for him to think of. Not only to help me make a garden, but to share his mother's land with me. I was overwhelmed by this man.

"I can't believe you."

"Do you like it?"

"I love it, Jake! Are you kidding?" I started wandering around, seeing the thick vines that had taken over the plot. It would take a lot of work to get them all out of there, and we'd need to get some good fertilizer to replenish the soil… My mind was clicking away now; I saw little signs for what had once grown in different areas and some outlines of where the garden versus the path had been.

"Can we work on it now?" I asked, eager to get my hands dirty and make this my own.

"Sure, sure, let's get the tools and stuff out of the garage."

"Oh, my god! Yeah!" I bounced like a little kid, spilling my coffee and making Jake laugh.

"I'm in charge of the pitch fork though."

I scowl-smiled at him happily before following him out to the garage.

We spent the day pulling vines and chopping out roots that were deeply entrenched in the soil. It was possible I'd never get rid of everything there, but that was okay; that was what was nice about a garden: you only had so much control over what it did. It was a living organism, working together with you and the air and the bugs to create life.

After an hour, my hands were so sore they burned, but the calluses that would come up would be proof of our labor. Jacob refused to let me use the hatchet or machete, claiming I was a menace to society and couldn't be trusted with such objects. So I dug and raked and pulled and bagged.

We stopped briefly at lunch time and ate sitting on the back porch. We didn't speak much, Jacob looking dreamily into the distance while I imagined what I would plant -flowers or vegetables or both.

"Hey! Call Paul; tell him to bring Royce over. He'd love it."

"Sure, okay, a little dirt is good for a kid." He walked into the house while I finished my lemonade and sat back. My muscles ached from use, but I loved it; it was a tangible thing to mark our progress. Unlike the removal process, the vines seemed to be growing back, replacing the ones we'd just pulled faster then we could keep up with.

I walked back to the garden and looked at the old fence; it was going to need some work too. On the ground, I found a plaque made of wood with a wood-burning carving on it. It was of a plant with a lot of leaves and some small flowers arching up at the top. Next to it, it said "Mom's Garden" with a small JB written in the bottom corner.

I brushed the dirt off of the plaque, knowing how special this was -him wanting to share this garden, his life with me. This was a part of who he was -part of the pain and joy of his life, and here we were, working through it together, making our lives something brighter and healthier together.

Jake walked out, calling to me, "They'll be here in half an hour or so. Rachel's going to come too, so maybe we'll all have dinner."

I turned to face him, tears of love in my eyes as I held the plaque. "We should fix the fence and hang this back up."

"What?"

I held it out for him to take, watching as he smiled and sniffed the tears of a child away.

"Thanks, Bells."

"I love you," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist "I love you too," he whispered, kissing the top of my head.


	25. Chapter 25

It's not hard being in love when life is flowing along easily. There may be small bumps, but love makes them manageable. It's not until you reach the rapids of life, the ones that rock you out of your comfort zone, that you find out who you are and who you are together. Sometimes there are things even the most profound love can't over come. Tragically, there's no way to know your breaking point until you're past it with your heart splattered all over the ground.

Loving Jacob was natural; I didn't notice the passage of time as we became closer and closer. I didn't notice when I'd stopped staying at my apartment except for after the Sunday night dinner ritual. I didn't notice when having his hand in mine was the status quo, being without him the exception.

Each and every day was full of joy despite the many, many things I did not notice.

The day Sam and Leah got married was clear and warm-the rare exception to the overcast days I had come to enjoy. Alice had worn me down, and I allowed her to take me shopping for something that would satisfy her need to dress me up and my need to blend into the crowd. I was dreading going: the vows, the tears, the congratulations. How could I keep up appearances when everything in me resisted exactly what they were committing to?

I had no problem with the concept of spending my life with someone. At the moment, I couldn't imagine a life without Jacob, and committing to him and to us being together 100% was natural. The idea of being married, of being named and branded as someone else's, was horrifying. I didn't need that official stamp to make what I felt somehow more real, and I didn't understand why anyone would feel the need to give in to the fantasy.

If there was ever a time when I should have seen the things around me, it was then. Jacob was withdrawn and short with me, and I was so tired I could barely bother to try and talk to him about it. I hadn't been sleeping well, despite his new mattress. His mood wasn't helping anything either.

When women get pissy, then we're bitches, or have our period, or are being unreasonable; why do men get to act like children without that? If I didn't know better, I would have thought he was pouting about something. Instead of dealing with him, though, I called Alice, who readily agreed to come over and help me get ready. There was nothing that made her happier than getting to play dress up.

Jake answered the door for her in his tux pants and tank top, making her whistle and laugh at how she needed to get Jasper to come to the fire station to work out. He was gorgeous; I watched him talking to her, so comfortable in his own skin. His tank hugged his back tightly, making each muscle even more distinct with the contrast between his skin and the white of his top.

I walked up behind him and slid my arms around his waist, coming to his side. "Morning, Alice!" I said, leaning my head against him, and although his arm wrapped around me, his body didn't mold to mine like it usually did; he was holding something back.

"Morning, Sunshine, now lets do something about those bags under your eyes. Has Jake been letting you sleep at all?" she laughed.

"Sure, sure," I laughed back, stifling a yawn, which made us all laugh.

"Okay, Babe, I'm gonna go help Dad get dressed," he said before kissing me on the temple, lingering long enough to make me sigh. Whatever was going on with him wasn't about us; I could feel the love coming from his touch now.

"Oh, Bella, what are we going to do with you!" Alice laughed, walking back to Jake's room with me.

"Is this where you two are living?"

"Yeah, it's… well, I don't know…"

"This is awful! There's hardly enough room to walk around!"

"I know, but…"

"Hmmm… okay, well, let's go do this in the bathroom then; the light will be better in there anyway."

I sat on the closed toilet, looking up at Alice as she examined my face and took tools out of her unreasonably-

sized make-up case. I watched her talk to herself as she plotted her course, looking at my face and even applying some of the powders to her own skin before deciding if she would use them or not.. Alice was beautiful, small, and energetic; she was a fairy, a nymph, and she brought joy with her wherever she went.

Watching her work was magical; her instincts guiding her, she was harnessing the soul of an artist. I'd never imagined that beauty was something you could create or manifest like a painting, but for Alice, that's exactly what she was doing. Skill, creativity and divine inspiration all came together as she worked.

"So, things are going well?" she asked as she started smearing some kind of cream on my skin.

"Yeah, things are… Alice things are great. Jake couldn't be better."

"Good," she smiled, eyes sparkling.

"So then what's with the sad look today?"

"Oh, nothing; I'm just tired I guess."

"Okay."

"And I don't really like these things-you know, like weddings and functions and stuff. I don't know how to act."

"Just act like you, Bella! Everyone here loves you. Just be yourself!"

"I guess," I said, biting down on my lower lip.

"Close your eyes," Alice commanded. She was going to do whatever she was going to do regardless of my opinions, so I just complied. I had been the one to ask her here anyway.

"So how'd the cake go?"

"Oh, my god, Bella, it was so much fun! Leah had the best ideas, and I finished it last night before taking it over to the hotel to put in the fridge."

"That's so great."

"Thank you so much for putting her in touch with me!"

"Well, hopefully you'll become the official desert caterer of La Push."

"That would be so great. If anyone else will hire me."

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Well, a lot of people here use Mrs. Atera for their cakes, and you know, keeping it in the family is a big thing around here."

"Yeah, well, it's cool Leah hired you."

"I think so too!"

I heard Jake mumbling in the living room, moving things around.

"Bells?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know where my cuff links are?"

"No, Jake, did you check my jewelry box?"

"Yeah, they aren't there." He came and leaned against the door. I could feel him there even with my eyes closed and reached out for his hand.

"I don't know, babe."

"Well, I really need them."

"I know, but where did you put them?"

"Fuck, I don't know."

"Did you look in the freezer? That's where I found your watch last week."

"Nooo, but thank you for bringing that up again," he laughed openly, seeming to relax.

"Okay, open your eyes and look at me," Alice directed, attacking me with a mascara wand and making me flinch. "Hold still!"

"I don't know if I can!"

"Well, fuck, where could they be?"

"Did you check the tux jacket?"

"No…" he said, releasing my hand and walking back into the living room.

"Men…" Alice whispered.

"Boys!" I giggled, hearing Billy roll out of his room.

"Billy! Let me see you," I called as he rolled by, his long hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, his suit impeccable, and his shoes shining.

"Hot stuff, Billy-Boy!" Alice said, making the old man laugh.

"Bella, have you seen my pocket watch?" he asked, making Alice and I fall into a fit of giggles, completely unable to even try to answer without laughing again.

"Girls, it's almost time to go," Jake called from the living room.

"Oookaaay," I got out between hiccupping laughs.

"Okay, now just give me those lips," Alice said, puckering her mouth to show me what she wanted me to do. He mouth moved as she applied the lipstick until it was exactly the way she wanted it.

"Keep this with you at all times," she instructed, making me laugh.

"Upon pain of death?"

"Upon pain of fashion disaster!"

"Okay, I'll put it in my purse," I smiled, standing up and hugging her. "Thanks so much."

"No problem. Have fun today and call me tomorrow; let's all get together one night this week. Hey, when's your last day of school?"

"Wednesday; can you believe it?"

"No. I'm so glad you're staying for the summer though."

"Me too," I smiled and walked back to the bedroom to slip on my dress and put Alice's lipstick in my purse.

I looked down at the floor length, ivory dress Alice had helped me pick out. I'd been worried about it because I'm so pale, but she assured me it worked. I put a simple chain around my neck and walked out to greet Jake and Billy. Jake had found his cuff links and was pulling his jacket on up over his broad shoulders as I walked out; the sight of him made my breath catch.

His hair was longer now-still short, but not boot-camp short anymore-and his face was relaxed and happy. When he looked over at me, his eyes shone, and his smile stunned me, his white teeth gleaming in the early June sun. I blushed, looking away only to find Billy's smile matched that of his son's.

"Isabella, you're stunning," he said warmly. "If I wasn't such an old man, I'd try to steal you for myself."

"Oh…" I smiled, looking down, unaccustomed to compliments such as that, especially from Billy.

"Baby, you look amazing." Jake came up to me, putting his hands on my hips comfortably. My body moved towards him without thought. He kissed me lightly on the lips, not wanting lipstick to transfer along with my love. "Let's go." He took my hand. Billy rolled down the ramp, over the new walkway, and out to the driveway.

The wedding was lovely, sweet, and simple, at the La Push resort. The vows were simple and taken outside on the patio with a view of the Ocean behind them. Leah's hair was long down her back, and her joy radiated around her like a halo; Sam smiled so broadly I was afraid he might pull a muscle. I sat with Billy, watching Jake's smile during most of the ceremony.

Somehow, I was left empty. Everyone around me had tears in their eyes, including Billy, but I remained unmoved. Admittedly, it was beautiful-a beautiful day and beautiful decorations, simple and elegant-but it did nothing to move my heart. I smiled as Royce handed Sam the pillow with the ring on it, but their vows of forever, causing sighs and tears in the crowd surrounding me, sounded hallow and unnecessary to my cynical ears.

Perhaps it was my mother's devastation at the loss of my father; marriage seemed to only be a path to heartache. Most everyone I knew had parents who ended up divorced or so distant there was little reason for them to remain together. When my mother had remarried, it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut and pretend to be happy for her. She was simply burying herself into a man to avoid life.

I had no need for that; I had lost myself to Edward, and I saw marriage as equivalent with that surrender. If someone really loved another person, why would a ceremony like this make any difference in the overall, lifelong scheme of things?

Watching Sam kiss Leah, I was touched by the tender intimacy of the moment. His adoration of the woman before him was evident in his manner. Smiling together, they walked down the isle, now something definable.

Jake was in a great mood during the entire reception, holding my hand, even convincing me to dance once or twice. I loved the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, him leading me across the dance floor, swaying with the music. He would hum along with the song and kiss my forehead as we moved.

Leah floated through the night, her dress and hair flawless as she greeted everyone, kissing and laughing through the small crowd. Her happiness was infections, and everyone was wrapped up in it with her. As the night moved on, I watched as older couples danced and kissed, and the younger generation worked on kindling a love of their own.

Eventually, though, my exhaustion got the best of me. I was tired, tired like I could sleep under the table like some of the children present were beginning to do. Even Royce was fading fast in his father's lap, but I could tell Paul didn't want to leave just yet.

"Jake, why don't we take Royce home with us so the Uleys and Paul can stay longer?" I asked, hoping to make our departure something he would agree too. My head was heavy with sleep.

"Yeah, Bells, that's a great idea. Okay, I'll ask Paul." He leaned down to kiss me. "I love you," he whispered, sending shivers across my skin. Every time he said it was as exhilarating as if it was the first time.

Royce curled up on my lap in the backseat of Jake's car on the drive home. He was fast asleep after the five minute drive. Jake carried him in; Royce's sweet arms wrapped around Jake's large shoulders. I took off my dress and crawled into bed without talking to Jake first; I was just so tired.

"Where do you think I should put him?" Jake asked from the doorway.

"Oh, just let him sleep with us," I yawned.

"Okay," he said, laying the boy down next to me. Jake had changed him into one of my small t-shirts that hung off of him like a dress.

The small boy whimpered and curled into a ball when Jake moved away, so I pulled him up onto my pillow and wrapped my arms around him with the smell of sugarcane in my nose.

"Goodnight, you two," Jake smiled down at us as I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

I dreamed about the little girl from the sea again, but she was older. Her hair was long like Leah's, but her skin was a paler shade of bronze. Her eyes were deep and liquid, seeing through me as she whispered the secrets of love and loss over the hissing of the sea around us. She laid me down in a nest of feathers, telling me to sleep, and as I drifted on the sea of her kindness, I sunk into the blackness of unconsciousness.

I roused slowly to find the bed empty around me; sleep still clung to my eyelids with desperation. Something had woken me… What was it? A ringing…

"Hello?" I heard Jake say from somewhere in the room. "No, she's still asleep. Can I tell her who called? Oh, ahh, hi… I'm Jake… Jacob Black… yes… um, are you sure? Okay… hold on."

"Bella? Bella, baby… are you awake?"

"Huh? Yeah? What, Jake?" I said, willing my eyes to open.

"Bells, your Mom's on the phone… um, and I think she's kind of pissed."

"Oh, God…"

"Sorry… I didn't know she didn't know who I was."

"Okay, it's all right; I just haven't talked to her in a while."

"Well, here… sorry."

"Ok… Hi, Mom?"

"Bella?"

"Yeah, hi. Mom."

"Well, hello, how are you?"

"I'm good; what's up?"

"It seems I should ask you that! Who was that who answered your phone?"

"That's Jake."

"Yes, I got that much. Why is he answering your phone?"

"Because I'm at his house."

"Asleep?"

"Mom, look, I don't need your permission for where I sleep. Yes, I slept at Jakes; I sleep here most nights. He's… my boyfriend, I guess."

"Oh, well, I didn't realize you were dating anyone again."

"Oh… I am."

"Um, okay, well, honey, I was just calling to see when you were coming home for the summer."

"Oh, ahh, I have a job here at the school for the summer, so, I guess, I'm not."

"Bella, what's going on with you? When were you going to tell me any of this?"

"I don't know. I guess it just slipped my mind. I'm sorry."

"Okay, well, call me sometimes, okay? I miss you."

"I miss you too, Mom."

"Miss Bella!" Royce screamed as he came into the room.

"What? What's the matter, Roy?"

"Miss Bella, he's tickling me!" the boy squealed, jumping in the bed and hiding under the covers as Paul came running in after him, oblivious that I was only dressed in Jake's shirt.

"Bella, who's that?"

"Hold… hold on, Mom," I laughed at the squirming giggling child.

"I'm going to get you!" Paul screamed, pulling the sheets off of the bed.

"I'm on the phone!"

"Dadddyyyy!" Royce screamed and giggled, and Paul carried him over his shoulder out into the living room, closing the door behind him.

"Bella, are you there?"

"Yeah, Mom, sorry," I laughed.

"So this Jake... he has a son?"

"Oh, no, that's his nephew." I got up, pulling my jeans on under the oversized shirt, desperately needing coffee.

"Okay, good! I don't think I could handle you dating someone with a son."

"Mom, don't worry about that."

"Okay, Bella. So are you coming to visit at all this summer?"

"Um, I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, you should. Phil's team is doing really well, and I've made friends with a lot of the other wives. You'd love it here; there's sun everyday, and…"

"Mom, I've been to the Jacksonville house."

"Oh, no, Bella; didn't I tell you? Phil was transferred to Nevada. We're in Las Vegas now!"

"What?" I stopped in my tracks half way down the hall to the living room. "You moved?"

"Yeah, I guess it was... oh... four months ago…Thank goodness the forwarding address still works, or I never would have gotten your book!"

"I… I can't believe you moved and didn't tell me!"

Jake stepped into the hall quietly, asking me if I was okay silently. I shook my head in response and confusion, walking past him and into the kitchen. Coffee was beyond a necessity now. Royce was lying on the floor of the living room, watching Super Why on the TV; Paul was engaged in some deep debate with Billy.

"Well, you've been so busy with your life up there…"

"Mom! That's ridiculous!" Rachel looked up at my outburst from the kitchen table, where she was reading Billy's newspaper, before getting up and going out into the living room.

"Well, I'm sorry, Bella, but you know everything doesn't revolve around you."

"I didn't suggest it did, but, damn, Mom, you moved!"

"Watch your language with me. You may be an adult out there, but you're still my daughter."

"My ass, Mom! I'm sorry, but if I was your daughter, you'd tell me when you move across state lines!"

"That's enough. You're acting like a child."

"Please, there's only room for one child in this relationship, and it's never been me!"

"Bella Swan, I'm hanging up now. I won't have you talk to me that way."

"Fine, try and remember to call if you move to Alaska!" I shut my phone and slammed it down on the counter, trying to get control of my anger. Why was I so upset? She'd never been much of a mother, and it was useless to call her on it. I'd learned that at a very young age when I realized I needed to arrange my own rides to and from school activities if expected to ever get home. I think I was in fourth grade when I started keeping a calendar of what my friends' parents were doing, so I could call someone if I needed a last minute ride.

"Bells, are you okay?" Jake asked from behind me.

"I guess, Jake, she just... she really got to me this morning."

"I can tell."

"Sorry."

"No, it's okay. I just wanted to make sure you were all right… It's hard to fight with your parents."

"Not that'd you'd know," called Billy.

"I just hate that I still feel like a little kid around her, you know? Like I can't have a life or opinion without her knowing about it, but then she just pretends I don't exist until it's convenient."

"Yeah, I was surprised to hear she didn't know who I was."

"Sorry, Jake, it's not about you; I just don't… tell her things."

"Hmm, and yeah, I heard I'm your boyfriend – you guess?"

"Come on."

"What?"

"Don't do that to me, okay? Boyfriend doesn't seem like the right word."

"No? What would you prefer?"

"I don't know."

"Lover?"

"No."

"Companion?"

"No," I giggled.

"Man-friend?"

"Oh, my god, shut up!"

"How about devoted slave?"

"I think that's the one. I'm using that one from now on."

"Okay, then I'll have to call you Master, I guess."

"Somehow that seems less culturally sensitive."

"Hmmm, I see your point. How about Mistress Bella?"

"Okay, let's keep that one."

"Excellent, Mistress Bella. Can I get your coffee for you now, Mistress Bella?"

"Thank you, Jake." I leaned up to kiss him; somehow he always managed to make everything better. The coffee was mostly gone, but he poured the dregs out for me before making a face.

"Do you want me to make another pot?"

"No, that's okay."

"All right, let me heat it up." He walked over to put it in the microwave, and it hit me: Why would the coffee be cold?

"What time is it?"

"Eleven thirty."

"What?"

"Yeah, you must have been tired."

"I guess so. Wow."

"Only three more days of work, then you can sleep your days away, princess," he said, smiling at me.

That evening, we had dinner with Rose and Emmett after taking Billy to Quil's dad's house. I went to bed early, unable to keep up appearances much after 9:00 PM. Soon, school was out, and my classes had risen to the challenges of their final papers. That meant that for the next three weeks, all I had to do was hang out at Angela's bookstore, grade papers, play cribbage with Billy, and sleep. And essentially, that's all I did.

I was disengaged with the papers my students had written, putting off reading them until the last possible moment, and then focusing more on the grammar and structure than the content because that was easier. I felt bad, like I was letting them down after asking them to work so hard, but for some reason, I just didn't have it in me. Even Brady's surprisingly well-written paper on being Quileute left me cold and uninterested.

Jacob had started tiptoeing around me; my temper easily flared these days for no reason. He was so wonderful, and I always felt bad immediately, but even Angela had been driving me crazy, and I was having a hard time even talking to Alice. She wouldn't leave me alone about how little I was eating whenever she saw me. I just had no appetite.

The summer program began, and I ran a writers workshop in the morning and a book discussion group in the afternoon. Only a small number of kids signed up, but it was a nice way to stay busy and keep the kids engaged in something they enjoyed. Claire was, of course, in all of my classes. Her work was growing, sprouting into something divine, something that could not be matched by anyone else out there. Soon, she would surpass me, and I was trying to get her to consider working on longer pieces, perhaps even a manuscript. I had no doubt she was capable of it, if only she gave herself permission to try.

A week into the summer program at the Res school, Emily commented on how I'd lost weight, and I yelled at her and then felt so badly I immediately started crying. If I was someone who paid attention to the world around me, I would have known, I would have been able to tell what was happening, but as it was, I was as oblivious as everyone else… except Claire.

"Bella," she said softly, coming up to me after book club on Friday afternoon.

"Yeah, Claire, what's up?" I said wearily.

"Bella, come on, lets go get something to eat."

"Ugggh, no, Claire, I'm really not hungry."

"Bella, you need to eat."

"No, I'm fine. I'm just having a hard time shaking this bug."

"I… you aren't sick."

"Claire, go home, okay? I'll see you at Quil's tomorrow night."

"I don't think you should drink either."

"What's wrong with you! Will you just lay off it?" I yelled, surprised by the calm smile that she responded with.

"Yep, that's what I thought."

"You're really starting to piss me off" I said, sitting back down.

"Bella, you're pregnant."

"What! No, that's… wait…"

"See? I can see it; I can tell."

"Okay, first of all, no, I can't be. Secondly, how would you know?"

"Um… I've been there…" she said, looking at the table between us.

"Quil?" I asked softly.

"No, before that, a while ago. Don't... don't worry about it, but... I just thought, you should… consider the possibility…"

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No, Bella, sometimes… sometimes the best way to love something is… is to let it go before it gets hurt, you know?"

"You're too young to have to think that way," I said, looking into the sad, ancient eyes staring down into mine and wishing there was a way to erase the knowledge contained within.

"Hmmm… well, it's okay. I don't think… well, I'm okay now, right?"

"Claire… do you really think?"

"Bella, I can practically smell it on you; you should take a test."

"Okay," I agreed, dropping my head into my hands, completely unprepared to deal with this.

Walking out to my car, I texted Jake quickly.

_Meet me at home? _

_Sure. All ok? _

_Yeah, just need u. _

_Ok, I love u. _

_U2. C u soon –45 min? _

I drove to the pharmacy in Forks, not wanting to go to the small reservation store for what I needed. The drive seemed to take forever while my life stood frozen in the headlights.


	26. Chapter 26

I sat in my garden on the wooden bench Jacob had built for me, waiting for him to get home. The offensive plastic stick in my hand mocked me and everything I thought I knew about myself. My garden was growing. I was surrounded by fertility and promise; what was it I was growing here, I wasn't really sure yet. I had purchased starter plants at the hardware store in town. Next year, I'd give growing from seeds a go, but I was a little late to start there.

I looked around the green expanse and smiled. Jacob had insisted he purchase everything for the garden since it was a gift and on his land, but I wanted it to be my own. And so a guerilla war had begun. I would buy peat moss and humus to mix in with the soil only to find he had come home early and tilled the whole garden. He'd go to reserves for a weekend, and I would plant as much as I physically could. Then I'd come home from work one day to find half my plants dug up, placed in pots, and new plants in their places.

It was a silly thing, a small thing, but the kind of thing that kept us entertained. That's really what matters, I think: if you can laugh together, if you can find a way to walk through life knowing how to make it just a little better for the other. Loving Jake was as easy as tending my garden. All it took was a little attention and the desire to be there.

And as I thought about it, coming here truly was coming home. At the end of my day, this is where I wanted to be. I missed seeing Em and Rose everyday, but we maintained Sundays and, being at Jake's little red house was the natural thing for me. Jacob was the natural path of my life. I could only hope he would see it that way too.

The wooden fence had been rebuilt; Quil complained when he and Jake worked on it, and Claire and I watched, giggling at his inability to swing a hammer without hitting himself somewhere. I had mounted the plaque Jacob had made for his mother so long ago right next to the gate so that every time I came here I saw it: "Mom's Garden." Mom…

It was a word I didn't know how to process. It meant so many things to me: disappointment, weakness, loneliness. Was it possible to be a good mother if you'd never had one? I looked down at the plastic stick that was dictating my life in ways I'd never expected it would go and smiled. What if…

I heard Jacob's Rabbit pull into the drive and walked out from behind the house to greet him; his face was serious and concerned.

"I'm sorry, Bells. I know I'm late."

"It's okay."

"No, you said you needed me; I should have been here."

"Really, it's okay… I just…"

"What? What is it? Are you okay?"

"Yeah… um, Billy's out at the Tribal Center, so let's go inside, okay?"

"Sure, sure." He reached out to hold my hand and found the stick that was in it. "Bells?" He held it up, looking at the indicator of our future before looking at me, eyes wide.

"Yeah, um, I haven't taken it yet." I looked down, unsure of what he was going to think or do. This wasn't something we'd discussed or planned. I didn't have any idea how he was going to react. I knew him well enough to think he would want this someday, but his 22nd birthday was in two weeks; he was still barely an adult.

"Ok… well… I guess, let's go inside," he said, not looking at me.

"Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Sure, yeah, I'm fine. Let's, um, let's just go inside, okay?"

"All right," I said, opening the screen door, "I'm gonna just…"

"Yeah, yeah, go," he mumbled, sitting down on the couch before standing back up and heading into the kitchen. He was impossible to read, which was making it that much more difficult for me to navigate whatever I was feeling. But there was only one thing to do, and that was to find out… secrets don't make friends, and well, I needed to know.

It was significantly more difficult than I'd expected to pee on a stick. You joke in school about it, thinking, how could you take a pregnancy test wrong? That is until you try. First I forgot to take the little top off of the part you're supposed to pee on, and then I managed to get urine all over myself as I tried to rectify that. Then I held it upside down while trying to get it in the stream, which just managed to get more urine on me and on the floor.

"Fuck," I muttered as I finally managed to get it to work before setting it on the counter and cleaning myself up. As I washed my hands, I watched the liquid move its way across the screen, saturating the chemicals that would tell me what was to come next. I watched as the five minute test sped by: first, the test panel showing a bright pink line, and then the saturation slowing eeking its way down the line to the results.

"Bells? You okay?" Jake called from the other side of the door, and the test glared its results up at me accusingly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming out."

"Okay."

I opened the door, and he was standing in the living room, his face unreadable.

"So?" he asked, still not looking at me.

"Well, here," I said, handing it to him.

"I don't really want your pee stick," he smiled, taking it from me and looking down. A frown crossed his face. "Okay, I was expecting it to say, like, yes or no or something. What does this mean?"

"One line means no…Two line means…"

"Yes?" he breathed, looking up at me.

"Yeah… yeah, I guess so." I avoided his eyes, unsure what I would find there.

"Oh… okay…"

"Okay?"

"That's… I wasn't really expecting..."

"Yeah, um, me either," I smiled, daring to look up at him to find his face hard in concentration.

"So, um, do you know what you want to do?"

"I... I'm not sure."

"Oh…"

"I mean, I don't know. This wasn't what I'd planned… I guess I need to think about what to do. I mean… are we even going to keep it?" I said, still reeling.

"You don't know? You mean you don't know if you want to keep it?"

"I… that's not what I said." I looked up at him, and he was staring down at me hard.

"You did. You… you don't think you want it?"

"No, I... I do; I think I do. I... I don't know…"

"What? Bella, God, I mean, I knew you weren't going to want to get married or anything but to… God!"

"I didn't mean... Jake, just stop it, okay? I don't... I don't know what I'm going to do yet, okay? I just... I just took the damn test! I have no fucking idea what I'm going to do!"

"You can't... you can't mean you'd really consider…"

"No. I mean, maybe. I don't know… I just… need to think about all this some."

"I… I don't… God, do I even know you? I mean, what's there to think about?"

"A lot, Jake. I mean, we're really young, and it's only been a couple months since we got together and… Fuck, Jake, there's a lot to think about!"

"That's… that stuff doesn't matter."

"Of course it does! I mean, where are we going to live? How... how am I going to work? And Billy… God, Billy's going to have an aneurism!"

"Who gives a fuck!"

"I do! And stop fucking yelling at me!"

"I can't believe you; you're worried about Billy? What about us?"

"You're... you're totally... Fuck, Jake! Will you calm down? I just... this is a lot to process all at once!" I yelled, sitting down on the couch and putting my head in my hands. I was completely unsure of how to process being pregnant, let alone his reaction. My tears started flowing, and all I wanted was his arms around me.

"I don't even know… Bella, that's me… that's us, and you'd really think about… you really don't know what you want to do? Fuck!"

"Jake…"

"No, I... I'm thinking like maybe you should move in now, and we can move things around and make a nursery in my old room or something, and you're thinking about getting rid of it?"

"Jake, will you slow down? I'm... I'm totally… I don't know!" I needed him to tell me it was going to be okay, that we were going to be okay, that we could handle this. We could handle anything together… Why was he doing this to me?

"Bella, I… that's mine too…" he growled, and I saw for a moment the man he wanted so desperately to be.

"Can we please just talk about this?"

"I… Fuck, Bella, I... I can't believe you…"

"Will you please?" I cried, looking up at him and imploring him to see me, see the me sitting before him, not whatever he'd decided about me. "Why are you so eager to fight?"

"Why are you so willing to give up?" he said, pacing the room now, his energy seeking to explode.

"Jake… please," I begged.

"No, I… I can't do this," he said, walking towards the door.

"Don't you fucking dare walk out that god-damn door, Jacob."

"What?" he growled, turning and leaning toward me.

"Don't you dare walk away from me." I stood up and took a step toward him, seriously considering punching him despite the damage I was sure it would do to my hand.

"You aren't really in any position to tell me what to do."

"I never am, am I? You're just going to do whatever you fucking want; you're just going to leave, right? Disappear and stop talking to me? That's what you do, isn't it!"

"Bella, what do you want from me?" He glared at me.

"I want you to talk to me! I want you to tell me this is… this is going to be okay. I want you to tell me you're scared too. I want you to tell me you love me." I sank back down, letting the couch absorb my exhaustion.

"I do! I love you so much, Bells!"

"Then why won't you listen to me?"

"I… do you really not want it?" he whispered, pain etching his words in the air.

"I didn't say that, Jake… I'm just… scared."

"Me too."

"I'm scared of this… of losing you…"

"Bells…"

"And I'm tired."

"I guess this explains that," he said, sitting next to me finally.

"And I have to pee."

He laughed tightly and smiled down at me. "I'm sorry." he kissed me on the forehead

"I know… just… try to chill out some, okay? I don't… I don't know how this is going to work. And I don't want to fight with you."

"It's going to work fine; its... its gonna be great, Bells, 'cause it's you and me."

"It's just... we haven't been together very long yet."

"I know, but, this... this is what we were given, right? And there must be a reason for it."

"Maybe…"

"Trust me, okay? It's going to be okay; we'll make it work."

"Okay," I said with a sigh, desperate to believe him.

"Now go pee; I'll start dinner."

"Uggh."

"You have to eat."

"I know… it just sounds so awful."

"No more skipping meals for you, little mama."

"What was that?"

"Too soon?"

"Most definitely too soon." I smiled up at him, my heart filled with possibilities.

We ate in relative silence with our feet touching under the table, both needing the reassurance of contact. Our lives were irrevocable changed that day, and there was no going back. There was nothing to be done but forge ahead and hope we could avoid the mistakes our parents and their parents had made. Jake watched me softly all night, his eyes still unreadable, but the love shining through.

"You… are you done eating?"

"Uggh, definitely."

"What? It was egg noodles and chicken! I can't make anything more bland."

"I know, baby. It's just everything tastes like soy sauce for some reason."

"Really?"

"Yeah… I don't know why, but everything has that weird soy after taste to it."

"So weird!

"I know, blech."

"Bella…"

"Yeah?" I said, looking up across the table at him.

"I love you. I love you, and anything you need, I'll do, okay?"

"Okay…" I breathed out the tension that was clinging to me, trying to relax into his love.

"We're gonna be okay. I promise. We'll make this work."

"I love you, Jake."

"Good, 'cause I'm never letting you go," he smiled as he came over to me, kneeling down and kissing me softly, which made me catch my breath.

"So listen, I was already thinking we should do this, but now… you know the back room is actually a lot bigger than it looks. Come on." He stood up, walking me to the end of the small hallway off the living room. When he opened the door, I saw the small desk he often sat at when paying bills and the boxes and boxes that filled the room.

"Okay, so a lot of this stuff we can donate or give away. My dad never had the heart to get rid of my mom's stuff."

"God… that's so sad."

"Yeah, he really wasn't ever the same after she died."

"I understand that…"

"Well, I thought we could go through it, see if there's anything we would want to keep of hers, and empty out the room. It's a lot bigger than it looks and definitely bigger than my room…"

"Oh… you mean?"

"Yeah, you-I mean if you want to-we could move in here... could make this our room. We could even get a real bed." He winked at me before laughing.

"What about your room?"

"Well, you know… that's a good size room for a kid…"

"Jake…"

"Sorry, I know. I just, you know, I was thinking about this anyway…"

"I'm sorry. I'm just so tired."

"Okay, honey, we can talk more tomorrow, okay? Why don't you get ready for bed?"

"Jake, you're amazing."

"I know. It's my natural state of awesomeness. It can be overwhelming if you look directly at me; you may want to shield your eyes."

"Yeah," I laughed, "that must be it." I climbed into the shower, tired from the day, emotionally worn out, and physically exhausted. I looked down at my body, wondering if I could handle what was to come. A baby… a real, live, bonifide human being… that Jake made. I smiled, placing my palm on my stomach, totally terrified. I was 23 years old, soon to be 24. I would be a mother before I was 25.

The water washed through my hair, waking me up and refreshing me. The scent of my shampoo had the usual effect of making me feel clean and new, like nothing could harm me. I basked in the warmth of the water until it cooled against my skin, waking me up from my reverie.

"Bells? Did you drown?" Jacob asked as he opened the door with a clean towel for me.

"No, I'm fine. I'm good."

"Good," he said, wrapping the terrycloth around my body. "So I was thinking... I think we should name the baby Bertha."

"Betha?" I asked as he sat on the toilet in the small room, watching me dry my hair with another towel. "What if it's a boy?"

"Oh, that's the boy name."

"Ohhh," I laughed. Somehow Jacob always knew how to reach me, how far to push.

"For a girl, maybe Hermione."

"Like Harry Potter?"

"No! Aren't you the lit major? Like Winter's Tale."

"I think that would be cruel; she'd be forever cursed as having people think her parents named her after those books."

"That's too bad; it's pretty."

"How about Iphigenia?"

"Ha, I don't think I can pronounce that, let alone spell it!" He smiled his warm smile as I walked past him, kissing his head and going back to our room.

"Okay… how soon do you think we can switch rooms?"

"You're… you're going to move in?"

"I… don't know. I pretty much already have, and I could save the $400 that I pay Rose… but I hate to leave her… do I… I mean, can we switch rooms anyway?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, trying to hide his disappointment at my inability to commit. It was just so sudden; this was all so… My thoughts were interrupted, scattered across my brain like ashes as I yawned, unable to contain my fatigue.

"Okay, to bed you," he smiled.

"Okay, night, baby."

"Night, Bella. I'll be to bed later, okay?"

"Yeah, it's still early; I know that."

He kissed me again before walking out of our room and shutting the door behind him. I threw on one of his shirts and hung the towels on the back of the door before climbing into bed, sinking quickly into a dreamless slumber.

I woke up late the next morning and looked at the clock. 9:30… I'd slept for eleven hours, and I was exhausted-bonecrushingly, mind-numbingly exhausted. What I needed was coffee… wait, could I still have coffee? Fuck, there was so much to figure out.

My brain hadn't yet caught up with my heart, which was already cradling and loving a nursing babe; it was already watching her first steps, singing the songs my grandmother used to sing me. My brain was still somewhat in denial about what was happening. And my fear, it was caught in a death-

match with my hopes. Inside of me, there was so much turmoil; it was impossible to even hope that I could have any perspective.

Jake was already up for the day, and as I slid on my favorite yoga pants and threw my hair into a bun, I could hear Billy in his room.

"You okay, Billy?" I called from outside the door.

"Ahh, yeah, sure, Bella. Can you... can you just get Jake for me?"

"Yeah, Billy, I can find him. Can I help with something?"

"No, no, just if you can find Jake…"

"Okay." I looked through the small house and was unable to find him; his car was still in the drive, but the motorcycle was gone. I quickly called his cell but only got his voice mail.

"Billy, he's not here, and he's not answering his phone. He must have run out."

"Oh… ah… Okay…"

"Are you all right?"

"Sure, yeah, I'll be okay…"

"I'm coming in."

"No, no, Bella, don't do that."

"Billy, it's okay, all right? I'm coming in."

When I entered his room, I was stunned by the handsome man sitting in his bed, eyes red and looking away from me. His catheter had come out in the night, and his bed was soaked.

"Okay, Billy, that's no big deal."

"Bella, I can handle this."

"Sure, sure, I know you can. Right, so, first could you do a cartwheel for me?"

"That's not helpful."

"Neither is pretending you don't need my help."

He took a deep breath "Fine…"

"Come on, now you get into your chair, and I'll strip the bed."

We worked silently-he, still in his wet pajama pants, and me, working to untuck the sheets on his bed. Under the sheets was a mattress pad I'd gotten for Jake for just this reason; at least now the mattress itself wouldn't get ruined. I balled everything together before taking it out into the kitchen to stuff into the washing machine. The color safe bleach I'd gotten waited for me to put it to use.

Seeing someone like Billy without his independence was the kind of thing that could defeat even the strongest soul. He was so good and kind, even if he did share his son's stubborn nature and tendency to jump to conclusions. These men were my men, they were my pack, my brood, and taking care of them made me feel stronger, like the wind in the trees or the water in the stream.

"Okay," I said, coming back down the hall, "Can you get yourself undressed? I'll start the shower."

"Bella, no, we're not doing that. I can just wait for-"

"Billy, stop being ridiculous. I love you. You can't sit in wet clothes, and you need to clean up. I'm not going to look or touch you or anything unless you need me to, okay? But you have to get in the shower."

"All right, but I'm putting my own catheter in when we're done."

"Okay, that's fair," I laughed, getting the old man to smile up at me again.

"I don't know why you're so good to us."

"I love you, simple as that." I kissed him on the head before walking to the bathroom to get his seat set up and the water turned on.

When the water was warm enough, I stood outside the door as Billy lifted himself out of his chair and into the tub, a new skill the Physical Therapist had taught him. He closed the curtain, and I came in, sitting on the toilet talking to him, as Jake had done with me the night before.

"So how was the Center last night?"

"Oh, you know, a bunch of old ninnie's talking about local gossip."

"So you loved it."

"Unabashedly."

"Great."

"I'm thinking about re-joining the council. I've been going to meetings again. I left when I got hurt... might be nice to get back to it now that I'm feeling better."

"Yeah, Jake said your father was Chief?"

"Hmmm, yes, back when those things mattered."

"I think it matters; I bet it matters more than you know."

"Maybe so, maybe so," he said, turning off the shower.

I sat comfortably silent, listening to the sound of the water and letting my mind drift aimlessly over the life I'd thought I wanted. I was supposed to be married to Edward now. Bella Masen. I was supposed to be traveling the world, living great adventures. Instead, I was sitting here, pregnant, with a paraplegic, middle-aged man with the silliest, happiest grin on my face.

I wanted to spend the day outside; I wanted to dig in my garden and weed and water what was growing. I wanted to sleep in the afternoon sun, the heat and life of the star rejuvenating me. I wanted to curl into Jacob's arms and never let go.

"Okay, kid, out you go unless you wanna see what a real man looks like."

"Okay, Billy, I'll be right outside."

"All right."

In the hall, I noticed there were flowers on the coffee table and the smell of bacon being cooked.

"Jake?"

"Yeah! Hey, babe!" he said, running out to the living room.

"I thought you'd gone for a walk down on the beach or something."

"Nah, just getting your dad cleaned up."

"What? Did something happen?"

"Nothing we couldn't handle; don't worry about it." I leaned up to kiss him gently, taking his lip into my mouth, putting my hands on his chest, and breathing him in. He smelled like fresh morning air.

"That's enough now, you two…" Billy said, opening the door and rolling back to his room with a towel on his lap.

"Did you… did you give my father a shower?"

"No," I giggled at his incredulous face, "he did it himself. He can do a lot more than you think he can, you know."

"Hmmm, maybe so." I smiled again at how alike the two men were.

"Oh, bacon's burning, crap!" Jacob ran back to the kitchen with me trailing along. For one more morning, we could be just the three of us, just our happy little family.

Jacob made more food than I knew what to do with that morning. Bacon, eggs, toast, and waffles: it was like he was trying to feed me a whole year's worth of breakfast at once.

"Does any of it taste good?" he asked, cautiously avoiding the topic in front of his father.

"The eggs are good, but do we have any Worchester sauce?"

"Nooo, why?"

"To dip the bacon in," I said as if it was the most obvious possible answer.

"Oh, my god, that's disgusting!"

"What? Really?"

"Uhhh, yeah, damn, I think I just lost my appetite," he laughed, taking my hand at the table, "So what do you want to do today?"

"Hmmm, I was thinking about working in the garden and taking a nap."

"Sounds thrilling."

"You know me; it's a barrel of monkeys whenever I'm around."

"Sure is, monkey breath."

"Hey!" I said, bringing my hand to my mouth.

"Don't forget we're going to Quil's tonight."

"Right, movie fun at the Ateras'."

"Well, Claire will be there at least."

"Yeah… I should… call her…" I looked out the kitchen window, lost for a moment in the rays of light filtering through the clouds. It hadn't rained in a while; I wondered when the next storm would hit. There was always one around the corner it seemed, hardly leaving you time to enjoy the clear blue skies.

"Bella?"

"What? Oh, sorry."

"It's okay, babe." He kissed me as he stood up. "I'll do the dishes. You go call Claire."

I headed back into our room with the faintest of aches in my abdomen, but I was unable to place it. Every part of me was in overdrive: I was hungry, I was nauseous, I was happy, I was hysterical; there was no rhyme or reason to anything that happened now. I would have to battle my analytical nature and learn to flow. That's all I could do, I guess-flow with whatever was going to come next. It was no longer within my control.

Back in our room, I called Claire, happy that there was someone in the world I could talk to. I didn't want to tell Angela or Alice. Certainly not Rose… she'd have so much to say; I couldn't even imagine. Soon, she'd be the best one to talk to, but right now, I was reveling in not knowing.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Claire, it's Bella."

"Bella! Hi, hold on, let me go to my room." I heard her walking and closing her door. When had my most trusted confidant become a teenager?

"Claire, how old are you?"

"What? Is that why you called me?"

"No, but it just occurred to me I have no idea."

"Well, I'll be 18 in August, so I'm 17."

"How is that even possible?"

"Well, see, when a man and a woman really care about each other, they express that love physically…"

"Shut up."

"Ha, okay. Come on, tell me why you called."

"I took a test."

"Yeah… was I right?"

"Yeah…"

"Oh, my God, Bella! What are you going to do?"

"I… I don't know… Have it, I guess. That's what Jake really wants, and I guess I can't imagine doing anything else, so…"

"Wow, that's huge!"

"I know."

"How are you? I mean are you feeling okay?"

"I'm just still tired."

"Yeah."

"And everything smells."

"Really?"

"Yeah, like warm feet."

"Ewww."

"And everything tastes like soy sauce."

"That's awful!" she laughed warmly, pulling me into her comfortable acceptance.

"Is it always like that?"

"I don't know. I mean, I didn't get far before…"

"Right; sorry."

"No, it's okay. I wouldn't have told you if I minded you knowing, you know?"

"Yeah, I'm glad you did."

"So are you still going to Quil's tonight?"

"Yeah, I think so, but you know, we aren't saying anything yet."

"No, that's good. You want to wait... make sure it sticks."

"Oh, yeah, I guess. I just don't really want to talk about it."

"Just wait until you get huge and everyone tries to touch you."

"No, they won't!"

"Yeah, that happened to my aunt. She actually slammed some guy into a shelf, knocking it over in the grocery store, for touching her stomach when she was like eight months."

"Oh, my God, I'm so not ready for that."

"But, Bella, you're the goddess now. You're life and death, all right there for us to see. How can people resist?"

"Claire, seriously, how can you be 17? I think you're lying. You're actually some kind of ancient, elven creature sent here to torture me with your wisdom, aren't you?"

"I wish, Bella…"

"Hey, Claire?"

"What?"

"What happened to you?"

"Another time, okay? Let's just celebrate today, okay? I'll get some non-alcoholic champagne or something for us to have tonight."

"Okay, thanks."

"Anything, Bella, okay? Anything. You're, well, you're the first person other than Quil who's just liked me for me, didn't try to change me or make me into someone else. You've always been just awesome and encouraged me, and you have no idea what it's meant to me. I know you're my teacher and all, but really, you're my best friend…"

"Thanks, Claire, I love you too."

"Okay, well, that's enough of that. I'm going to go, like, beat some dogs or something to get over that sentimental crap now."

"You do that. Try not to mess with the wolves, though; they can be pretty fierce."

"Fierce like us, Bella."

"Yep, just like us."


	27. Chapter 27

The sun filtered in through the window, sparkling in each speck of dust. Spinning without direction around me, they fluttered and danced. My nap had been delicious-the kind of sleep that makes you long for the next dream, the warmth of the bed molded to you perfectly, the pillow cradling your neck with reverence.

Lying in bed, I could hear the television in the living room and the whirl of tools from outside. Out the window, I could see the tops of trees and distant clouds. Beyond the ozone, there was a star falling, tracking its progress through the universe in measurements we hadn't yet dreamed. I watched as it sailed past, leaving a trail of meteor rock and disillusionment behind. It was turning out to be a beautiful day.

I climbed out of bed slowly, the aching in my abdomen demanding to be relieved. Once I was dressed and had gone to the bathroom for the 846th time today, I smiled at Billy as I walked out to find Jacob. I had a feeling he was in his garage; he'd been in there a lot the past few weeks, not wanting me to see what he was working on.

"Jake?" I called from outside the door.

"Oh, hold on!" he answered before shuffling things around and coming out. He was wearing his old tan shorts and nothing else, taking my breath away.

"Hey, what'cha working on?" I leaned around him, trying to see inside the door.

"Come on, no peaking. You know I want you to wait till she's done."

"I know," I smiled up at him, hating surprises but loving how excited he was to finish. "I was thinking of going for a walk on the beach. It's so gorgeous."

"Yeah, hold on. Let me turn off the power strip, and I'll go with you."

"Good." I was unable to remove the smile from my face, looking forward to simply being with him.

Jacob's hand slipped into mine; our fingers intertwined without thought. I rubbed my thumb across his skin, feeling the tendon of his hand, strong like the rest of him. His skin was dry from working with the wood this morning, but soft against mine. He was my anchor, my tether to reality. He was my life.

We walked out to the boardwalk and crossed onto the sand, leaving our shoes behind, my fears of them being taken left behind long ago. As we walked, we didn't talk, the sound of the ocean seducing the sand the theme music to our adventure. We walked for twenty minutes before stopping and sitting on a fallen tree that allowed us to look out at the surf. If I could have chosen one thing I wanted to be in my life, at that moment, I would have chosen to be Jacob's.

"Jake?"

"Yeah, Bells?"

"I think... I think maybe I should move in…"

"Really?" His smile barely contained his relief. "Because, you know, I don't want to pressure you or anything but… I'd really like that."

"Yeah, I would too, and, you know, that way I'd have all my stuff here instead of always driving out to Forks for something."

"Bella." He put an arm around me, pulling me close into his side. "Good, that's good," he smiled before kissing me on the temple and resting his head on top of mine. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Good."

"I was thinking about Lily."

"What?"

"Names. If it's a girl, maybe Lily."

"I like it. What made you think of that?"

"That sign in the garden. That's a Lily of the Valley you carved for your mom, right?"

"Yeah…"

"So Lily."

"Lily Sarah…" he suggested.

"That's nice."

"My mom's name."

"Okay, Lily Sarah."

"Black or Swan?" he asked.

"What?"

"Lily Sarah Black or Lily Sarah Swan?"

"Oh, Black… Black, right?"

"If that's… I mean, yeah… but I know you don't want to get married, so I wasn't sure…"

"We could hyphenate."

"I don't think I'm quite that progressive," he laughed warmly.

"We could be the Black-Swans."

"Oh, that's just awful."

"Sounds very Native."

"Far too Native. I think we'll just stick with Black."

"Okay, Lily Sarah Black. I like it."

"Me too." He kissed me on the head.

"Bella, it's going to be okay."

"I know. You keep saying that, and I'll keep believing you, and then it will be, okay?"

"I'll say it as much as you need me to. Over and over for the rest of our lives."

"Hmmm, that sounds nice." I relaxed into him, letting him hold the weight.

We sat there listening to the soft, lapping of the water, watching the sun move through the sky at a painstaking pace, as if calculating each step before moving even the slightest, and holding onto the moments, one by one, trying to stretch them into forever.

"I love the ocean," he said quietly into the mist.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's so expansive. You can imagine that there's nothing else but us and the sea."

"Nothing else that matters anyway," I said, snuggling closer. The air was chilling as the evening snuck in around us, skirting the eyes of the sun so she didn't notice what had happened until it was too late.

Sighing, Jacob pulled away from me. "Come on, let's get back. Quil gets pissy if we're late." We stood up, and Jacob wrapped his arm around my waist, his hand firmly holding me to him.

"I know. Are you sure he's not a girl?"

"Are you sure Claire's not a boy?" he joked.

"Fair point."

"Point and score, I believe."

"No, I think that's just one love."

"Wait, what sport is that?"

"Tennis."

"You play tennis?"

"No, God, can you imagine!"

"So how do you know the scoring?"

"Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead."

"Okay, now you're just talking gibberish."

"It's a play."

"Sure, sure, and Stinkenstein and Leibowitz are opening a dry cleaners downtown."

I laughed as we walked, swinging our hands like children playing on the beach, digging my toes into the sand, and watching as the crowds thinned, heading home for the day.

Back at the house, Jacob hopped in the shower while I mixed up brownies and popped them in the oven to take to the Atera house. Billy had a big night of TV planned, and I made sure his dinner was ready to pop in the microwave when he wanted it before going back to our room to throw on some cleaner clothes.

Walking in to our room, I found Jacob pulling the towel off of his waist before drying off his hair quickly.

"Hey, sexy," I murmured, sliding my hands along his ribs and down his stomach.

"Hey! What are you -"

"What? Is there a problem?"

"Ummm, no," he said, relaxing as my hands stroked him gently.

I released my hold and came around to face him. "I love you." I leaned up and kissed him slowly, leaning my body close.

"Bella…" he moaned as I kissed his neck. His hands pulled me tight against his naked body, still warm and soft from the shower. He rubbed my back soothingly, massaging away any tension that lay beneath, his warmth passing through to me.

He pulled my shirt off of me before undoing my pants. Helping me step out of them quickly. I stepped back and lay down on the bed, waiting for him to join me.

"I could just watch you, just look at you all day. You're so beautiful, so exquisite."

"Jake…"

"Don't get shy. You're amazingly sexy lying there, waiting for me."

He stood next to the bed, looking down at me; he was an imposing figure from this angle, all muscle and anticipation. He stroked himself as he watched me, his eyes glazed with lust.

"Touch yourself, Bells… let me see you…"

I smiled shyly. "Jake…"

"Come on, just... just let me see you," he breathed, pulling on himself harder now.

I slid my hand down to my core and looked up, unsure. He nodded and smiled wickedly, his knees bending into his movements. I let my fingers slide along my mound, opening me to the cool evening air.

"Fuck…" he hissed. "You're so beautiful."

Ignoring him, I rubbed my core, letting him watch as I opened and softened into the sensation. He sat down on the bed by my feet, watching me intently with his eyes glued to what my fingers were doing. My eyes closed as I felt the familiar tightening that followed after my body had fully relaxed. My fingers rubbed me firmly, rolling across my clit.

"Bella…" I heard him say from somewhere past me, and then I felt him, his lips against my opening, his tongue plunging into me as my fingers stretched me roughly.

"Ohhh."

His hands were on my thighs, opening me as he massaged and brought my skin to awareness with his touch. His mouth explored me, pushing my hand out of the way in his greed to taste all of me. I was lost in the melting warmth of him against me, my body liquefying and boiling with each touch of his fingers and tongue.

"Jake…" I breathed, rolling my head back and losing all conscious thought.

He sucked on my clit, pulling me into his mouth as he brought his hand to my opening, pushing a finger in and making me jump back, desperate for it never to end.

"Fuck, baby," he mumbled against me, taking as much of me into his mouth as he could, gumming at me, and lapping at my folds as his finger pushed up into me. He pulled out slightly, making me moan to feel him again until I was rewarded with two… three long, thick fingers inside of me.

"Ohhh, God…" I moaned, arching my back and pushing down onto him.

He licked at me slowly, torturing me with his deliberate touch and making each thrust of his hand slow and perfect. He worked me firmly with a restraint that had me begging for more.

"Jake… Jake… please," I cried with my hands in my hair and my jaw clenched with the need for release.

His fingers stroked me as he licked faster, pulling me into his mouth, building me higher until the spectrum couldn't contain the colors flashing behind my eyes.

Tears leaked out of my eyes as he pulled my clit solidly, forcefully into his mouth one last time. I trembled with the sensations running along the fault lines of my body, making me jump and gasp with delight.

"Oh… I… God…" I muttered incoherently as my body shook, still vibrating with the intensity of my orgasm.

When I opened my eyes, he was hovering above me with passion radiating from his eyes. I answered his silent question, pulling him between my legs and kissing him softly. "I love you," I whispered as he pushed into me with a solid thrust, bringing him right up to the edge of me.

He watched me as he silently moved inside me, his intensity visible between us. There was something new in him, something vibrant and desperate that I'd never seen before. I held him tight, pulling him close. I ran my hands across his back, his chest, his face, kissing his lips and shoulder as he continued, building me up to another orgasm so quickly after the first with his deliberate movements.

"Jake… Jake… God…"

He pushed against me, reaching into me with everything he was afraid of, everything he needed to know. Our lives were threaded together now; there was no going back, no matter what happened now. We were one; we were forever bound in love and fear, the unknown opening before us.

"Mmmphhh." His jaw tightened, and I saw it then-the tears in his eyes as he looked deep into my soul. He lay down on top of me, giving me the pressure of his full weight as his head sunk into the crook of my neck. He pushed into me, his hands on my hips pulling me closer to him with each thrust. I clung to his back, whispering my love until I felt him coming inside me, for the first time, completely aware of the cost.

We lay silently, his body next to mine and his head on my breast as his breathing slowed. I ran my fingers in his hair, holding him to me and soothing him with all the things he needed me to say but I didn't know how to. I would tell him the only way I knew: by kissing his head as I held his free hand, my other hand running my nails through his growing hair.

"I love you, Bells."

"I know, Jake. I love you too. It's okay… you're okay," I said, cooing to him as I would a frightened child in the night.

Time passed as we exchanged silent promises and reassurances, murmuring to each other's souls.

"We should go." He kissed my chest before looking up at me. "Are you happy, Bells?"

"I am, Jake. I'm so scared, but… I'm so happy with you." He kissed me before standing up and searching for clean underwear.

"Okay, when we get into the other room, I'm buying a new dresser."

"Oh, thank God, that one has to be as old as you."

"You know my birthday's in two weeks."

"Yes, I know."

"What are you getting me?"

"Oh, am I supposed to get you something?" I teased.

"Well, yeah!"

"I thought maybe you were too old for that kind of thing."

"Never. Birthday's are a sacred ritual."

"Right, so you want a cowboy themed party with a pony?"

"Holy shit, that would be awesome!" "There's seriously something wrong with you."

"I think my taste in women proves that beyond a doubt."

"Seriously, I mean, Jessica? Eww."

"Ha." He was dressed now, watching me pull out a simple t-shirt to throw on.

"So, we'll need to get a headboard and stuff for the bed. I'd rather not sleep on the floor if we can help it."

"Definitely."

"We'll have to figure out what to do with your stuff."

"I don't have much-just my desk and bookshelves really- and you'll need to build an addition for all my books."

"Right."

"Where are we going to put my couch?"

"The red couch?"

"Yeah."

"Umm, the dumpster?"

"No way, dude. I love that couch."

"Your taste is questionable."

"Clearly!"

"Hey now! That was just mean!"

"I can't help it if you walk right into these things, Jake; you need to be a little faster on your feet."

"Sure, sure," he laughed as we dressed.

The evening at Quil's house passed slowly. Quil, Claire, Paul and Rachel were there; a group that was quickly becoming my friends. I missed Alice and Angela, realizing that there were few events where my two groups of friends seemed to be present. In the back of my head, I started plotting a dinner, or a party at Jake's house… our house.

I sat on the old leather couch between Claire and Jake, getting up every 3.6 seconds to go to the bathroom again and making Quil complain about me disturbing the flow of the movie. He'd rented Zombieland, so I didn't know what "flow" he was particularly worried about. I loved the movie though; anything about Zombies I associated with Jake. It must have been because of seeing Shawn of the Dead with him, or maybe it was his gleeful laugh whenever one of them was decapitated. The ridiculous, over the top violence made me smile warmly at the wonderful man sitting to my right.

Claire and I drank sparkling apple cider while everyone else drank beer, but she managed to pour it into a pint glass for me and wink discreetly. That girl was something else. Someday I knew I'd have to ask her again about her past, about what could have happened to a child so young to have forced her soul to pull upon the wisdom of past lives to survive. As much as I loved her, there was no excuse for the childhood she so deserved having been stolen before she was able to try it on.

I fell asleep on Jake's chest partway through the movie and woke to find my head in Claire's lap, her fingers lacing through my hair gently as she watched the end. I smiled up at her and was rewarded with a sad smile looking down at me, a pain so deep it sliced through her soul, leaving the tattered remains behind. Reaching up, I put my hand on her face to connect. Leaning into it, she brought her hand on top of mine and nodded before smiling down at me.

"You feel asleep," she whispered.

"I do that."

"Yeah."

"Where's Jake?"

"Sitting on the floor."

"Okay," I said, yawning, glad the movie was almost over so we could go home.

That night, I dreamed of the little girl again. She was standing next to the woman I'd seen holding her hand. Another, older woman with white streaks through her long, black hair and eyes mirroring Clair's deep sadness joined her. They stood and watched as I walked out into the ocean, the water clinging to my clothes, weighing me down, and demanding my attention. It wrapped me up, pulling me under while the women told me to breathe.

I sat up with a pain in my side and her name on my lips.


	28. Chapter 28

The pain in my side was familiar, a slow, burning ache that clamped down unrelentingly. The warmth inside me swelled, overtaking my organs and bursting forth in a flash of pain.

The cramping had woken me and taken me by surprise. What was this? Was this normal? Was this… I pulled myself up out of bed, tiptoeing over Jake, pain and exhaustion fighting to overtake my senses.

I waded my way to the bathroom, feeling a trickle down my leg and knowing this was real but praying my vivid imagination had finally crossed over into hallucination. I closed the bathroom door and turned on the light, stunned for a moment by the assault on my eyes; it made me blink, trying to banish the spots spreading in my vision.

Pulling Jake's shirt up, I sat down on the toilet, looking down at myself for the first time. The blood on my thighs was thick and dark, unlike any period I'd had before. I stared at myself, the red-black streaks across my ivory skin screaming of death.

Sobs escaped me as the next cramp crashed down on me, doubling me over in pain and devastation. It wasn't possible; this wasn't what happened. I wasn't even really pregnant yet, not really, how could something that didn't exist yet die? It was still a dream, a game, a fantasy, not a reality! But the pain in my side and the ache in my lower back told me that dreams could die too.

My tears fell for the thing that had not been, the one who would not be known. She was gone before I'd had a chance to love her, to even accept her into my heart. She was gone too soon to be mourned, and yet here I was with my arms wrapped around my legs as my body expelled that which was not to be.

I grabbed the Advil from under the sink and scooped water into my hand from my position on the toilet, taking four pills. I remembered the nurse telling me that was the most it was okay to take at once when I was younger and had cramps that would debilitate me, landing me in bed for days. I swallowed them quickly, not stopping long enough to think and keeping my mind as painfully blank as possible to focus only on the pain in my body. Pain I could bear; pain couldn't break me. Loss though…

I cleaned my legs with the hand towel behind the sink, vowing to throw it away and burn it from existence the first chance I got. That was what I wanted: I wanted to burn; I wanted a funeral pyre that would consume me along with this pain, purifying me and leaving me white as ash and new as if I had never known the searing pain of death. Because that's what this was. There was no other explanation.

The little life, the potential of breath inside me was gone; it was dying, and with it, it took the part of me that loved it. Death would forever reside in my soul, her name wrapped around it like a blanket. For two days, I was a mother. If Claire hadn't said anything, I still wouldn't know; this would have been a painful inconvenience instead of the shattering of my soul.

And Jacob… for two days, Jacob was a father-an amazing father, an amazing man. Would he… would he blame me for this? Would he think I had done something wrong? Would he still want me? Would we still be forever?

The searing poker inside of me swirled around, cauterizing my thoughts with pain and making me gasp. I wanted to take a bath. I wanted to sit in the hottest water possible, burning off the skin so that my outsides would feel like my insides. But the images that filled my head were bloody and red, my skin painted with her death. No, a bath was not an option.

I sat in pained silence, willing myself to breathe and not think. I called to the women in my dream: the child, the woman, the elder; I begged them to save me from this pain, to take it from my heart so I could be whole again. But all they did was stand in a circle around me, smiling, welcoming me into the knowledge that defines us.

Death is the cruelest of initiations. There's no return from the brink of insanity you face when you look at it in the eye, knowing its color and shape. And so I was condemned, forever to spend my life with her in my mind-the one who would not be: the one who would have been loved.

Time slid by, not waiting for my solitude to be complete. I watched as the sun came up, its brilliance matching the burning inside my womb. My tears grew softer, my pain diminishing with the effects of modern pharmaceuticals and my anguish intangible and unexplainable, knowable only through the hole gaping inside me where my future had once resided.

"Bella? You in there?" I heard Jake on the other side of the door while my arms still wrapped around my middle, my body oozing death.

"Yeah," I said weakly.

"Are you okay? When did you get up?"

"I'm okay," I said, the tears in my throat fighting for me to call to him. I needed his arms, his strength, to hold me together as I shattered into a million pieces, each a tiny mirror, reflecting my pain back, magnifying it.

"Okay, well, can I come in? I have to pee."

"No!" I screamed, not wanting him to see the blood, the towel, me…

"Okay, all right, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said quickly, cleaning myself up as much as I could before turning to look in the bowl. The water was dark, unrecognizable, thick with the sludge of life. I flushed her away, knowing that this was not the end of my pain. My cramping continued, screaming for me to acknowledge what was happening.

"I'm… I'm just going to take a shower."

"Okay, babe. I'll make coffee."

"Okay…" I sighed, unable to imagine what I had to tell him. Two days was not long enough for our happiness to last.

The water was hot against my skin and felt good against the ache of my back. I washed my hair twice and used the tea tree oiled shampoo to wash all of me, hoping its smell and clean tingle could wash away the reek of death that clung to me now. As I washed, my blood flowed, leaving a trail of pink down my legs, swirling into the drain. Watching as the color diluted and disappeared, I was transfixed by the tangible quality of my sorrow.

They say there is no fear in love. But the fear of loss, that's what paralyzes us, making the world stagnate with inaction. This loss, this pain, was this worth the promise of what love could bring? Was it possible that your loss was directly related to the depth of your joy? Was pain proportional?

I sat in the tub, letting the water wash over me, breathing in… breathing out…

I turned the temperature up, wanting to feel nothing but the sting of it against my skin. My tears were inseparable from the water falling on my shoulders, making it possible for me to believe that I was not crying, that my pain was an abstract concept, separate from me. Taking it outside of myself, I could hold it, look down at its twisted face. But its face was my face, and it was contorted beyond recognition.

The water started to cool, and as I turned the temperature up, I heard knocking on the door. Unable to answer, I sat, letting the water wash over me, taking my desire to recover from this with it. I would sit with this pain; it was all I needed now. There was no pain like my pain. There was no loss like my loss. Throughout the ages, the women of generations have shared the knowledge that this pain defines us. And now here I was, curled on the bathtub floor with the water cooling my skin, draining me of my ability to live.

My sobs echoed around me, shocking me with their volume and bringing me back to the frozen droplets piercing my skin. I turned off the shower and reached for my towel, changing my mind as I touched it. No, I would not be using a white towel today. I took Jake's green towel, promising to buy him a new one when I threw this out along with the hand towel in the sink.

"Bella? Bella, what's going on?" Jacob said as I stood there, wrapping myself in the terrycloth and feeling nothing against my skin but absence.

"Nothing," I croaked out, unable to talk. Wet and shivering, I sat on the floor with my back against the tile wall; the tile was cool against my skin.

"I don't believe you! Come on."

"It's nothing."

"Bella!"

"Go away," I said softly, unsure if he would hear me but unable to try harder.

"Bells, please, you're scaring me."

"Just go away!" I screamed, the sobs following shortly after, curling me in on myself. I lay on the bathroom floor with my shoulder and hip digging into the unrelenting tile floor, crying for everything I never thought I wanted.

Waves of sorrow broke over me, catching in my throat as the pain in my stomach grew again. I needed to get clothes on. I needed to warm up. I needed to get off the floor. I needed to tell Jake. I needed to dissolve into oblivion. That was the only thing I could imagine would stop this agony.

"Baby, come on, I'm completely capable of breaking down this door…"

"Just go away, please."

"No. No, you can't make me leave you, Bella, never again."

"Liar!" I screamed through my sobs, knowing he would be gone, his touch would leave me; this would break him, and I'd be alone again. Alone without him, without us, without her. My solitude would be complete, and my soul would slowly die in isolation.

I heard him bang against the door harder, slamming against it, but I was unable to move.

The door buckled under his weight, the lock breaking away from its hold in the door jam and leaving slivers of wood sticking out at all angles, pointing to me, threatening to pierce my skin. But what would one more pain be now?

"Bella, what's…" He stopped, taking in the scene before him: my shivering, grey body huddled in pain on the floor, the blood covered towels in the sink and under my body. "Baby…" he said, leaning down to me and grabbing my towel to cover me up.

"No!" I yelled irrationally, sitting up and scooting away from him. "No, not the white!"

It took him a moment to realize what I was saying before he nodded and went to the linen closet to get a dark blue towel he had. "Baby, come on, we need to warm you up."

"Why?" I sobbed, defeated by my body.

"Come on, don't think, okay? Just let me take care of you," he soothed, trying to break through to me, but he couldn't see that my paralysis was the worst kind; it was a paralysis of the heart. My body may move, but I didn't care. My skin may be touched, but I couldn't feel it. My heart may still be in my chest, but it did not beat.

He wrapped the towel around me and helped me stand, drying my body, stopping at my legs when he saw the blood against my thighs. I heard him suck a breath in, but I didn't look at him, sure of the accusation I would find there. I felt him start to dry me again, gently wiping it from my skin.

He stood up and bundled me into his arms tightly, consuming me with his body.

"I'm… I'm sorry…" I sobbed, breaking into him and letting his warmth wrap around me. "I'm so sorry," I hitched, feeling the pain in my body break me in two.

"Okay, okay, come on, let's get you in bed," he said, walking me back to our room. He laid the towel down on the sheet before getting me a pair of black sweatpants to pull on and one of his shirts. "Come on, what… what do you need?" He sat on the bed, looking at me calmly.

"I… I don't know." I rolled away from him, unable to see anything but accusation in his eyes.

He slid in behind me, his body curling to the angles of mine as he pulled the blanket up over us. "Shhhh. Shhhh, it's okay, Bells. It's okay," he said as I cried. He reached around me and placed his hand on my stomach, sharing my pain. "It's okay… shhhh… shhhh…" I didn't see when his tears started falling, and I didn't feel when he kissed my shoulder. I fell into a fitful sleep, his hand warming through to the core.

I woke slowly to find him sitting in our bed next to me, reading.

"What are you reading?" I asked, rolling over to look at him. His face was drawn, tired.

"Nothing special. I don't know, umm, 'Culture of Fear.'"

"Oh, I don't know that one."

"A book you don't know? Wow, that's shocking," he teased warmly.

"Well, there are still a few out there," I smiled up at him.

He slid down into the bed again, resting his head on his hand and looked at me. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

"Did you... I mean, is it..."

"I think it's gone," I said, looking at the bed between us, my tears building again.

"God…"

"I'm so sorry, Jake… I…

"No, no, baby… don't do that."

"I don't know why…"

"You didn't do this, okay? It just… happened."

"I don't know how to… I don't know how to stop feeling this way."

"What can I do?"

"I don't know, Jake. I… I just want to sleep forever."

"Baby…" he said, touching my face and tracing the outlines of my features with his fingers. The feel of his caress was soft and so full of love; my tears broke through, sobs tearing out of me despite my desire to keep them hidden. He held me; he wrapped me in his arms and held me as I cried until I thought I couldn't cry any more, but he didn't leave-he didn't stop touching me, talking to me, kissing me.

I went to the bathroom; the effect of the Advil was gone now, and I cried as my body squeezed down on itself. Feeling another's death inside of you is something you just can't describe.

I heard Billy outside talking to Jake. "What's going on?"

"It's okay, Dad. Don't worry about it."

"I'm going to worry, Jacob. Why is that girl crying? Did you do something?"

"No… God… No, I didn't, Dad."

"What is it then? Is she sick?"

"Yeah… kind of…

…

"Dad, Bella was pregnant."

"Was?"

"Yeah… was…"

"Hmmm… well… I'm sorry, son."

I heard Jake sniff, as if he were wiping away a tear. "Yeah…"

"You, ah… you should go get her some supplies, you know, and some chocolate."

"Chocolate?"

"Yeah, that always helped when your mother was upset and when she was pregnant with you."

"Oh… Okay…"

"You know, Jacob, your mother, she would have been proud of you… I know I don't… but she would have liked to know you."

"I would have liked to know her too." Jake's voice broke.

"Okay, well, when she's settled, you should go. I'll make her some tea."

"Okay. Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime, son."

I listened as Billy wheeled himself out into the kitchen; it was finally his turn to take care of me. Despite the aura of death that clung to me, I smiled a little to think of the old man talking about his wife finally and, in his own way, loving me.

I stepped out into the hall and smiled at Jake. "Hey."

"Hey, baby, you... you wanna get back in bed or rest on the couch? My dad's making you tea."

I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the men I loved so as they hovered around me, not knowing how to help. Their love was tangible, something I could hold onto. Jacob, my tether, my love, if he could… if we could find our way through this…

"The couch," I said and was rewarded with a sigh of relief and a smile. "And, Jake… I do need, like some pads or something."

"Oh, don't you have that stuff here?"

"Yeah, I have… tampons, but I… I don't think that's what I should use right now…"

"Okay. I don't understand, but something tells me I don't want to, so I'll just do what you tell me to.?"

"Okay," I smiled up at him.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked, his concern thick.

"I… I will be. Right now, I just... I just need to lie down and..." The tears in my eyes returned, filling me with their heartache. "I'm just sad," I said, my lips hardly able to make the words as they struggled to hold back my cries.

"Me too," he pulled me to him again and kissed my head. "Me too…"

I walked out to the couch, and Jake laid the towel down for me before I sat; he brought out the down comforter I'd slept under the first time I'd spent the night… on this couch… the smell of summer heat and mothballs still pungent.

"I love you," he said, kissing my head. "Don't ever stop believing that, okay?"

He walked back to his room to get his keys and run to the store. In the doorway, he stopped, looking back at me. "Oh, and… what kind of chocolate do you like?"

I smiled knowingly but didn't give him away. "Anything's fine, baby, thanks."

"Okay" he said, running out the door, happy to have something to do. Men like Jake, they need a task, a tangible, achievable goal, or they start to feel useless. Whether I needed something or not, he needed to go get me something.

"Bella…" Billy said, wheeling into the living room with a mug of hot tea in his lap.

"Careful, Billy!" I said.

"Ahh, it's not like I'd feel it if it spilled," he smiled laughingly with worry in his eyes.

I reached out and took his offer of comfort in the form of tea. "So, you okay?"

"Yeah… I guess…"

"Jake told me."

"I know."

"Hope that's okay."

"Yeah, Billy"

"'Cause, you know, I'm here to help… as much as I can." He gestured down at his legs sadly.

"Thanks. I think you underestimate how much you do for me."

"Hmmm," he said, rolling back into the kitchen and leaving me to look out the window from my perch. The sun was shining, and the sky was getting cloudy, the threat of rain hanging lightly in the air like an old friend.

I wished my mother was here. I wished she was here to hold me, to cradle me in her arms and brush my hair. I wished she was someone who could offer comfort and love. I ached to call her, to have her tell me she understood, to believe that the love she felt for me was something like what I had lost.

I shifted uncomfortably, worried to move and stain the couch… although then Jake would have to let me replace it with my red loveseat. I smiled and laughed, surprising myself.

"You okay?" Billy said, rushing back into the room.

"Yeah, I am… I mean, no, but I will be, I think. I think I will be."

Billy smiled broadly, his face lit up with promise.

"Bella, you're by far the strangest woman I've ever met; makes sense you work so well with that Jacob of mine."

"Yeah…" I said.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"Okay, lie down. I'm just reading, so call if you need anything."

"Sure, Billy, thanks."

"Yeah, okay then…"

I was asleep when Jake came back, but I woke up to the sound of pizza being delivered a few hours later. I'd lost most of the day and hadn't eaten anything, my stomach informed me loudly. I was sore and tired, but for a moment, when I first opened my eyes, before I had a chance to remember, I was happy. I knew I could be again, but the lead weight sunk at the bottom of my soul was there, would always be there.

How do we do it? How do we move on from a loss so profound that the limits of language do not allow its expression? How can we move on and risk that pain again? But somehow we do, over and over everyday. Somehow Claire still found love with Quil, and somehow Rose had pieced her family back together-a mishmash, but a family nonetheless. Somehow…

I groaned as I sat up. Jacob ran to my side, leaving the pizza delivery man in doorway limbo.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just, need to go to the bathroom."

"Okay, let me help."

"I can walk, Jake," I said, standing up and kissing him softly.

"I know, sorry. I just..."

"It's okay… I love you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I do… so much."

"Okay," he smiled at me, sadness staining his vision but happiness just behind the veil.

"I'll be right back."

"Your bag's under the sink."

"Thanks," I blushed, forgetting his errand.

I cleaned up again, noting that the hand towel had mysteriously disappeared. I put on some fresh underwear before making my way out to the living room, where Billy and Jake were sitting, watching the television and munching on their pizza. There was a vase on the table full of beautiful, cut flowers, the smell of them peaceful and vivid.

"Did you get me flowers?"

"Yeah," Jake smiled up at me sheepishly. "They, um, the sign said they're lilies…"

The tears in my eyes spilled quickly as I struggled for my breath.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry," he said, running over to me and pulling me in his arms. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"They... Jake, they're beautiful. They're… they're so beautiful," I sobbed against him, my pain fresh and raw. His arms held me close, the soft fluttering of our love getting stronger and sure of its ability to fly with each kiss he placed on my head and each breath I took. "I love you," I mumbled into his chest.

"I love you too, Bells," he said, rubbing my back and soothing my heart.

I pulled away and looked up at him, at the amazing man who loved me no matter how crazy I was, no matter how much I didn't deserve it. "Thank you," I said, my voice breaking again.

"Yeah… they seemed… right."

"They're perfect." I kissed him softly before moving to sit on the couch to stroke the petals, astounded by the profound beauty of nature.

"I, ah, I called Claire... Just... you know..."

"Okay."

"She wants you to call when you can."

"Okay, I'll see her tomorrow."

"You.. What? You aren't going to work tomorrow," he said, incredulous that I would even consider it, making me laugh at his overprotective instincts.

"No, I guess I'm not."

"So, maybe she can just come over here and hang out with you?"

"Okay, Jake," I smiled at him.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay."

That night, Jacob slept tight against to me, clinging to me in his sleep. But he didn't need to; I wasn't going anywhere.

I dreamed of the sea, swimming underwater in a glowing lagoon; the child from my dream swam next to me, beckoning me to follow her. As I swam, I ran out of breath, needing to get back to the surface, when the old woman appeared below me. "Breathe," she whispered into the water, and I did.

I breathed in love, and I breathed out life.


	29. Chapter 29

For a week, I lived in confinement. Sam was easily convinced that I had the flu, and between Jake and Claire, I was never alone. Despite my conviction that I was okay, Jake insisted I go to the clinic in Forks and get checked out. They did an ultrasound and a blood test, and everything was fine. I was no longer pregnant and was given a prescription for the pill. Jacob never left my side, no matter how uncomfortable or intimate the exam; he just held my hand and wiped my silent tears away.

The human body was amazingly capable of handling its own disasters. What was happening to me had been happening since the beginning of time, before doctors, before hospitals; I was not the first, and I wouldn't be the last. I was lucky that there was nothing more serious going on-that's what the doctor told me, but no part of me felt lucky. I felt robbed, cheated, and more than anything, I felt betrayed.

My body had betrayed me; it had given me something I hadn't asked for, pushed its will upon me, and then as my heart melted, letting in the bright little soul I had been asked to care for, my body stole her from me. I had been given no choice; the destruction of my heart was slammed down on me suddenly, leaving me stunned.

For something neither of us had been prepared for, our loss hit us hard. Only in our togetherness were we able to grieve. As I began to feel better, I walked on the beach for hours, sitting, looking out, and wishing the women from my dream would come and tell me how to recover from this. Sometimes Jake would come with me, his love a salve to my heart as I stroked his hand or he rubbed my back. I didn't say much, finding that there was little I cared enough about to discuss.

Sitting on the beach and digging in my garden were my comforts. Sometimes I would sit on the porch and write, my voice changing as I processed the pain I felt, forcing me to grow up. Claire would come by almost every day, her kindness and understanding making me feel less alone. I still wished my mother could be here, but the child with the ancient eyes tended to my broken heart with so much love I couldn't help but heal.

I spent most of my time alone, soaking in the sun and feeling its warmth on my skin, but always desperate to return to my men at the end of the day. After a week, I was ready to go back to work, and secretly, I think Billy was ready for me to be out of the house, although he'd never say anything. My silence was heavy in the air.

Alice had been calling and leaving messages, understandably worried about my lack of communication, but I didn't call back. What could I possibly say? The idea of telling her, anyone, about what had happened made my lips slam closed and my jaw tighten. No, those words weren't ready to be spoken. I would call her soon…

Jacob's birthday came and went without much notice, and mine was around the corner. I would be 24 in the middle of August, and I would be older than any 24 year old was meant to be. The weeks passed, and life resumed to normal. I spent my time at the school or at Angela's store when I wasn't with Jake and Billy. The pain in my heart had become my constant companion, but now I was learning to live with it, learning to laugh around it.

We resumed our Sunday dinners with Rose and Emmett without discussing our absence. They kindly welcomed us back into their lives, letting me know even without words that I had a home in Forks. I was surrounded by love, understanding and acceptance. My happiness leaked back into my heart, allowing it to mend as much as it could.

It was the last week in July when Jacob stayed out in his garage all night for the first time. That week, he only slept in our room twice. I was cold without him, inside and out.

His summer was much like mine. Without classes to give him structure, he floated between Paul's, the fire station, and home. Whatever he had been working on in the garage was consuming him. He was changing, becoming harder as he concentrated, almost obsessed with his art. I breathed in this new Jacob, loving him as best I knew how, trusting that would be enough.

We were still sleeping in his small room on the floor, and I was still technically living at Rose's. I hadn't been there except for once or twice, though, in the last three weeks. When I did, she watched me with knowing eyes that made me turn away. I cringed from bringing up my moving in; we hadn't discussed it, or the future at all since… well, since everything that happened.

One night, when I had again gone to bed alone, I was awoken by a frantic Jacob, his eyes wild.

"Bells. Bells, wake up."

"What? What is it?"

"I finished."

"What?"

"I finished her."

"It's two in the morning, Jake!"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, but… come on, I want you to see her…"

He pulled me up out of bed, rushing me as I pulled on my yoga pants and flip flops. He took my hand, pulling me outside into the cool night air. I stopped for a moment to feel the soft rain on my face, the smell overwhelming me; it hadn't rained in so long.

"Come on, Bella!" he called from the garage door, holding it open while the light inside streaked out into the night.

I smiled down at where he was standing, knowing I would love him until I died. No matter what happened or would come next, all I wanted was to have him with me. Walking down to him, he saw my smile and blinked back for a moment before smiling back at me.

"Well, that's nice to see."

"What?"

"Your smile. What's got you so happy?"

"You, Jake. I love you."

"Good," he said matter-of-factly before taking my hand again and pulling me inside.

Standing before me was… a miracle… the wood woman shone life from within. Her fingers were so delicately carved you could see the nails and cuticles and the texture on the skin of her knuckles. The cloth on her body appeared to sway with the light breeze in the air. It was the most miraculous thing I'd ever seen. In her arms, she held an iron bouquet of lilies in full bloom, making me smile at Jacob's silent tribute to the one who would not be.

And then I looked at her face. I gasped at what I saw before me-life in the eyes that shone looking at me.

"Jake, how... how did you do this?"

"Do you like it?"

"I... oh, my god... she's perfect."

He smiled, sighing behind me.

"How... how did you know what she looked like?"

"What?"

"That's… that woman… she's been in my dreams."

"Bella," he said, taking my arm to turn me towards him, my eyes resisting looking away from her face. "Babe, what are you talking about?"

"That woman, she's... she's been in my dreams… with Lily… she's my angel."

"Bells." His voice caught with the tears falling from his eyes, surprising me. "Bells, that's my mother."

"Wha…What?"

"That's my mother," he said, stepping to his workbench and grabbing a stack of pictures. "Here, here look. This is... this is when I was little, and she would walk me to school. And this one, this is one my Dad took of her and I sleeping in the hammock we used to have. And this is her at the beach."

I watched silently as his young life passed before me; he was so happy, so safe in her arms and that smile… it was the one she looked at me with. It was so full of love and understanding. The last picture he showed me was of her laughing with her arms around Billy's neck.

"They were so happy," I whispered, my tears building.

"They were… She's been in your dreams?"

"She has. She's been with me for… well, since we got back together, I guess, after the reading."

He sat on the couch in his garage, looking up at the image of his mother he'd created with love.

"That's when I decided to make this her…"

I walked up to her, her eyes dark and knowing as I touched her face. "Thank you…" I whispered before leaning my head on her shoulder, wishing she could wrap her arms around me. "Thank you," I said again, my tears rolling onto her skin.

Jacob came to me and pulled me into his arms, kissing me softly and wiping my tears away with his lips. "Has she been taking care of you?"

"Yeah… and teaching me."

"Teaching you? What?"

"That I was wrong. I've... I've been wrong for so long about so many things, but you… you're the best thing I've ever done."

"Bells." He leaned his forehead against mine, smiling sadly.

"And Jake?"

"What?"

"I do want to get married… I was wrong about that too."

"You… what?" he said, pulling away slightly and looking in my eyes to search me for truth.

"Yeah… I mean… if you want to…"

"Bella, God, are you asking me to marry you?"

"I guess… you aren't going to make me get down on one knee, are you?" I looked up at him and saw my Jacob, my sweet love, who had grown into the most amazing man.

"I probably should, but no, I'm not."

"So?"

"Oh, you want me to answer you now? Ummm, I don't know. That's a pretty big decision, and you didn't even get me a ring," he laughed as I swatted him in the arm before bringing his warm lips down to mine.

"Yes," he said between kisses, "Yes, tomorrow, next year. Whenever you want, I'll be there."

"Soon," I said, pulling back to look at him. "Let's do it soon. Just something small, maybe here at the house."

"Okay, whatever you want." He smiled his broad, toothy smile. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Jacob, with every breath, with every beat of my heart."

That night, we made love on the floor of his garage, coming full circle with the vision I'd had the first time I'd been here. I was Jacob's inside and out, and no matter what we faced, that would never change. Love... love was our constant. This was love, real, true love, and if we held on to it, the way we held onto each others bodies as we kissed, we would survive anything.

We were married on October 11th, outside in the yard, next to my garden. I held lilies as we vowed to be together until the end of time. It began to rain as he kissed me, baptizing our union with the blessing of the heavens.

With Jacob, I find I almost always feel like lovers do and that nothing, so far, has managed to taint that feeling. We circle each other like birds of prey. I have found an equal, a better, a partner, a master, a slave. All in one breath, he fills me and destroys me; the passion that takes should be unsustainable.

What is it that he gives me that carries us through? What is it about this love, as opposed to others, that makes it survive the tests of time? Why is it that in my deepest hate, I know it will pass? I know this is forever. How is it that I know at the highest crest, that this is heaven? This love, it's the very fountain of life.

As I think back on loves past and days spent in languid togetherness, what differentiates this love? Is it me? Is it the knowledge that what overrides each moment is the look in his eyes as he kisses my tears?

Time encircles us with its width, and I find it difficult to differentiate between passages. But this love, this love has stayed; this love hasn't strayed, and I feel in my soul that it won't. We have found something in each other that eludes so many, and at times, eludes us all: freedom.

As the years passed, every Mother's Day, without fail, Jacob has bought me a new kind of lily for our yard. Now, in spring, the colors explode in celebration. His hair has grown so long he wears it pulled back in a simple ponytail, as his father had done for so many years. We have clung together through joy and sorrow, grieving our parents passing, reveling in the love of our children. A day doesn't go by when I do not reach out to touch him, or tell him I love him; life's too precious to waste.

_Let the winds of the heavens dance between you. _

_Love one another but make not a bond of love: _

_Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. _

_And stand together, yet not too near together: _

_For the pillars of the temple stand apart, _

_And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow. _

_You shall be together when white wings of death scatter your days. _

_Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God. _

-Khalil Gibran

The End


End file.
